Roman: Dianna Wears Red Primus
by Mad-Hamlet
Summary: Continues from where Terminus ends. An answer to a question I asked myself a long time ago: What is The Slayer? Posted on by request.
1. First Lesson

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr...Arrgh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

I've been telling lies to myself.

Hold me now, you know

I am so afraid to be...at all.

-Vast

'Here'

Dianna Wears Red-Primus

First Lesson

Dark out.

A little starlight filtering through the branches.

I can see.

I can always see.

Can't see you now, but I know you're there. Looking for your food, thinking you're the hunter. Thinking there's a pretty little something out there for you to take. You don't know it yet, but it's the other way 'round. There's a pretty little something out here alright. I'm looking for you though.

No. You don't know it yet; but you will.

I'll show you.

The rough bark of the tree branch digs into the soles of my feet. I push off the limb I'm reclining against, feeling the wind. Feeling, touching, tasting the wind all over me.

Listen.

Feel.

Smell.

I know you're out there little thing. I know you're out there all I need is one...

Gotcha.

Jump; don't land on the ground. Mausoleum roof works just as well, jump, land on the next. Why run when you can fly?

Leap, spin, grab the low branch, flip...rebound off the head stone. Wind's sliding over me, stars at my back. Can you hear me? Can you hear me coming little thing? You're quiet, careful. I can tell, you don't smell like a fledgling. You've got experience; you've been doing this a while. Won't help you, nothing will help you. I'm coming for you, can you hear me?

Well meat? Can you?

There you are. I see you.

Ah. I see her too.

She is lovely. Look at her. The long black hair tied into a French braid that dips down to the small of her back. The dark blue jeans, so deep they are darker than the rest of the night. The back of her neck, pale, glowing under the light of a streetlamp. You must be so hungry little thing. Drooling maybe?

See how the tip of her braid bobs and jumps every time she skips to the music in her head? I can hear her humming; she's dancing to a song inside. You want to stop that song don't you? Take all that rich sweet life and just drink it down. Slurp, slurp yum, yum.

Won't let you.

Won't let you do that. No, no, no.

I see you. I see you crouched down behind those bushes. I hear your knuckles crack as you flex your fingers in anticipation, I hear the grass whisper when you shift your weight forward. I can hear your breath rasping between your canines.

Silly vamp, have you gotten so excited that you've forgotten you don't need to breathe?

But you're blind, deaf and dumb little thing. I'm right over your head and you don't know it. Crouching on this branch looking down on you. Can't you hear me? Huh? Don't you know that I'm right over your head? No. No, you don't.

Poor, poor little thing.

Here she comes, she's about to walk right by where you're hiding. Are you going to jump out in front of her? Scare her? Listen to her scream and try to run before grabbing her? Or will you just slip up behind her after she's walked past and take her from behind. Not giving her time to even gasp in surprise before you make the kill? What will you do little vampire? Hm? What will you do?

Doesn't matter.

I'll do it first.

Fall.

Fall loud so you hear me land.

Finally.

"Slayer," You speak through fang and spit. Your wasted drool splatters to the earth.

Do not talk, do not waste time. Attack. If you don't, I will.

No?

Fine.

You are fast, and strong. I can't beat you down, you'll get back up, but I can break you.

I intercept your leg when you try to kick at my head. Stepping into the blow and absorbing the impact on my shoulder, trapping the limb between my side and grabbing it with my arm. I bring my forearm down across the cap of your knee and now it's broken. Tighten my grip raise my other forearm and smash the inside of your thigh with the ball of my palm, pulping the muscles between your bones and my fist. Stepping forward I adjust my grip so my arm is wrapped around your upper leg. You try to claw at me but I slap your blows aside with my free arm. Bringing up my leg I slam my foot into the back of your supporting leg crushing the other knee onto the earth.

You're immortal little thing, but you're broken now.

No long drawn out fights. Chase, immobilize ..and my favorite part. The kill.

You scramble on the ground now? Are you whining? Where's your feral defiance now?

I snap a branch off the tree and pin you down.

Goodbye little thing.

A rustle behind me, I spin, but hesitate-the girl.

She's staring at me, eyes wide, fear glistening inside. My tongue flickers out to taste the air. It's just a split second but she sees. More fear. Yum.

"Wh-what are you?" She whispers.

I smile again. The words are unfamiliar to me but I manage a horse growl. "Hungry"

The girl gives a little shriek and turns to run, my legs bend in anticipation of the leap.

No!

No. She...she's ...she's not prey. Cattle yes, but not prey.

My...my I...hurts…hurts inside. A second ago I-I …fine…Now….

Home. I want to go home.

I leap for the trees.

Dark inside.

A dim glow from the streetlamps outside filters in between the blinds.

I can see.

I can always see.

Can see you now. Bundled under the covers, watch the slow rise and fall of your breaths. Hear the warm air easy between your lips, smell the natural perfume of your body. Think you're safe, warm and safe in your bed. You're not. You're not safe in your bed, behind your door, you're not. I'm here now though. You're safe now because I'm here. In the room; With you though you don't know it yet.

Don't worry.

You will.

I'll show you.

The carpeting is soft between my toes as I step silently across the room. I move around the pile of books in the middle of the floor, I know they're there. I can see them, you couldn't but I can. Ease around the chair between you and me.

I crouch down next to where you sleep and watch you. It's so dark but I can still see. Your lashes flutter after a time, underneath the pale lids I see your eyes rolling. You wet your lips with your tongue and smack them quietly a few times. I hear your quiet murmurs and sighs when you roll over in your sleep. Now on your side your face is half lit from the glow outside, I stare at your closed eyes imagining, picturing the green.

I touch you between the eyes with the tip of my finger and ease a soft caress down, along the rise of your nose, up to its tip and then over the cupids bow, tickling your lips gently. You hiss in irritation and your tongue flickers out again to sweep away the annoyance. Its wet heat brushes my finger and a fire roars down my spine.

You don't want to wake up do you. You want to stay asleep, wrapped in warm fluffy dreams and the false safety of blankets. You don't want to acknowledge my hand brushing through your red hair. You want to rest, and to sleep and to dream of simple things like tests and lives long past and best friends. Maybe even flying ponies.

I won't let you.

No, no, no. I won't let you do that.

You swallow. My eyes lock on to the convulsions of your throat and are drawn to the crux where your shoulder meets your neck. I can see the flutter of blood underneath skin and muscle. My-my teeth ache. I want….

NO! Something...something else…I'll do something else.

I ease my hand under the warm blanket and trace my nails along warmer skin. You purr, still asleep. I touch your ribs and rub my hand over your belly.

"Hmm...wha….?" You blink your eyes lazily.

"Shh," I whisper.

"Buffy?" You ask hoarsely. An ache forces its way up my throat. I-I hurt.

"Willow," I whisper back to you. "I..."

Your eyes are fully open now and they glow in the dim light. They are so bright, I don't want to look away but … I…don't...deserve this...so much love there. There's so much love and humanity in your eyes. Close your eyes Willow, please close your eyes.

"Buffy?" You ask, sitting up straighter. "Are you okay? Did something happen on patrol? Where are your clothes?"

"I...Willow...that is.," My hand caressing your belly is stopped when you rest your own hand atop my own. "Clothes? Oh...I just took a shower…and…Willow," I look away from you. You're so bright. So ...complete.

I know you're reaching out to me, I feel the movement of the air being pushed aside as your arm stretches across the space between us, your hand cups my chin and turns my face to look back at you.

"What's wrong?" You ask me. You want to fix it don't you, how can you? You're full, I'm not. You're whole, I'm...

"Can...can I be with you?" I ask. I try not to whine, I try not to sound pathetic, there's an angry roaring inside my blood at the sound of my weakness. "Please?"

I feel your smile before I see it and when I do it takes so much not to cry in fear and relief. You hold open your arms and I fall into them. So much peace is flooding through me I almost don't hear you say quietly. "Always."

I'm not hungry anymore. I'm in the arms of someone who loves me. She is safe now, not 'cause I'm here but she's safe and because she's safe I'm safe. I'm safe with her... curled up against her body; her arms holding me close as I lay with my head resting on her shoulder. I can feel the flutter of her throat under my cheek, hear the deep thrumming.

No, it's okay. It's okay. She's not prey. She's not meat either. She's…safe. She's safe.

She's safe.  
She's safe.

She's safe.

She's safe.

My teeth ache.

Mmm... mm? BRrrrr!

It's cold!

How'd it get so cold?

I glance around and notice Buffy curled up beside me. Well, not quite beside me she's also got most of my blanket wrapped around her. All I can see is her hair (Which is sticking up in weird directions) and her bare feet poking out the bottom of the blanket.  
The window's open too. That would explain the 'brrr'.

I nudge the peaceful slumbering snug bug in my rug...blanket. Whatever.

"Sss!" I hiss. Nothing.

"Buffy!" I whisper a little louder. Zippo.

I lean over and give her a solid push. "Buffy!"

She snorts a few times, pulls her arm out from the blanket and rubs her nose a few times. Then the hand disappears back inside the blanket and she curls into an even tighter ball.

Okay...fine. Suns up anyway and I expect the alarm clock is going to go off any second now and I'm going to go and just let it drone on and on. Make her shut it off, that'll teach the blanket hog. Ha! There it goes, and...

Wow.

That was pretty fast, didn't even see her arm move just...one second an annoying, buzzing alarm clock and now a silent pile of plastic. I..I think I'll go take a shower. Yeah. Shower. Probably the wisest course of action. Let her get a few minutes of sleep, she's…she's probably tired. Gotta give a little leniency to ...y'know…the Slayer an' everything after all.

Ah...warm hot water. Chase those chills away...so very much better. Now let me think...think...I'm missing something...something important. What is it I'm forgetting? Aha...yes…gotta shave. It's Friday, that means tonight is 'date night'. Wanna look my best. Okay so date night consists of mainly pizza and rentals but considering I'm watching movies with my girlfriend an' all that I gotta look my best. Cause...I wanna be real inviting like so uh if there's a scary part in the movie and I should, maybe, jump in her arms and the lights just happen to be off.…

Whoa. Stop drooling Rosenberg, gonna get as bad as Xander. Gotta keep my mind on the present.

Let's see if Buffy has woken up yet. I crack the door to our room open slowly and peek inside. Nope, she's still wrapped up tight. Okay, this calls for desperate measures and if this fails I'll resort to cruel measures. Like cold water. Against my will I my gaze is dragged to the wreckage of the alarm clock. On second thought….

I tiptoe across the room, putting my towel on the cabinet, and lean over Buffy's slumbering form. Okay, now how does she sound uh maybe this. "Ms Summers! This is the third time you've fallen asleep in my class. I'll need to speak to you afterwards,"

Instead of her bolting upright in a panic one of Buffy's eyes open a crack and she peers at me balefully. "You sound nothing like Dr. Walsh, Willow."

I shrug. "That always works in movies."

"This is real life," she points out still staring at me from one half-open eye.

"With vampires and Hellmouths. But it's not all bad,"

"How so?" the sullen tone in Buffy's voice is palpable.

"There's bagels!" I state triumphantly.

Her open eye slowly closes and I'm worried she's gone to back to sleep. She has a class in half an hour and I really don't wanna risk winding up like the alarm clock. After a few moments she says, "Bagels are good true, but I can think of something better,"

"Uh really? For breakfast? Cause I love warm, fresh bagels with all sorts of gooey creams and maybe…ohh…maybe cheeses too!"

"No. This is definitely better," Buffy the lump mutters from under her trappings.

"This being?" I query.

There is a silent, colorful, explosion of action as Buffy flings off the blanket and the next thing I know I'm airborne. A split second later I land on the bed and Buffy's atop of me her hands gently pressing into my shoulders. She buries her face in my neck and traces a series of short sharp kisses and tender bites along my jaw line.

"Oh," I gasp. "Oh wow!"

Her hands slide down the lapels of my bathrobe and gently begin to tug. She's mumbling into my neck, like a giant cat purrs, I can feel the rumble of her growl in my bones. Ah...oh...jeeze. This...this is better than...mm...Phooey on bagels... and...

A cold wind blows through the open window across my still damp skin. The resulting chill crashes across my brain and cognizance is close behind.

I try to push her off without being harsh. "Buffy."

She continues her affectionate actions, now her hands are trying to work at the knot at my waist. Her lips have abandoned my neckline and now she nips nibbles, bites and kisses her way down my arm until she reaches where she wants to be. Last weekend Buffy and I got henna tattoos, the looping, swirling ones with super ornate designs. I think they're kinda neat but Buffy absolutely adores them.

The tip of her tongue follows the patters of my tattoo around, and around, tracing and retracing all the circles on my skin, over and over again...and I'm so very tempted to just lay back and ...and...

"Buffy...we can't," I groan.

Her growl now has a plaintive sound to it. Like a whine. She doesn't stop nipping at me though.

I put my hands on her shoulders and push slowly but firmly; she yields reluctantly even though she could out-muscle me easily. She pulls away from me, still gloriously naked and the whole appeal factor is trebled by the adorable pout she's wearing. Eyes downcast lower lip sticking out just a bit.

Weeell...I mean…what could it hurt to...no. No, no, no. Gotta take a firm stance. Be mature, responsible, blah blah blah schmacity schmacity.

"C'mon Willow," she whines. "What about carpe diem and all that?"

"Quoting 'Dead Poets Society' won't help you this time Slayer," I growl back at her. "I can't be sure of the time cause…" again I glance at the slain alarm clock. "Hold on a sec'."

I clamber off the bed and wake up my laptop. I get a look at the time. "Holy cow! Buffy we gotta go. Diem is about to run right over us!"

"Aw nuts," She grumbles pounding the mattress with her fists. "Do we have to?"

"Uh yes. Y'know the whole higher education thing. Kinda generally thought of, by the world at large, as a good idea," I turn to her.

"Oh all right. But you owe me," Buffy concedes. She clambers off the bed, slips on an extra long T-shirt and grabs her towel. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," I say diving through what clean clothes I have left.

A few minutes later Buffy's back, shaking water from her long hair. The t-shirt is clinging to her skin in all the right and wrong places. Right because…yummy! Wrong because of the timing. Temptation rears its, in no way, ugly head. I mentally stand fast, beating temptation down with a brick.

"Willow?" Buffy asks noticing me staring at her. "You okay?"

"Fine, fine," I turn away and grab my book bags. "I got a class in five. See you at lunch?"

"Same bat time, same bat channel," She comments over her shoulder as she bends over the own clothes drawer. Down temptation, down! Bad dog, sit…stay. Play dead.

"Sorry about the carpe diem," Buffy mumbles as I head for the door. "In the long run you're probably right."

"Carpe noctum maybe?" I ask poking my head around the door back into our room.

"I don't care about the timing just so long as some Carpe Willow is in the near future."

I blow her a kiss and go to class.

Bored.

Bored.

Booorrrinnngg...

Being here. Sitting here. Listening to this. Boring. Boring, boring, dull, boring and even more boring.

I could be out there. I should be out there. Or with her, I could be out there or with her... or even have her out there. Show her and...no. No. Can't do that. She...she can't know. Not yet, not ever. Have to…have to do this alone. I love her, trust her, know she would never hurt me but...

"Ms Summers would you care to pay a little attention?"

Sigh.

"Yes sir."

Boring.

I hear him come up behind me. "Ms Summers could I speak with you for a moment?"

No Professor you can't , because you are now taking up Willow Time. Time that could be spent with Willow. This is generally a bad thing and I would recommend highly that you get to know my priorities. You and your lessons are classified somewhere below 'Watching paint dry.'

I turn around to face him. "Sure thing. What's up?"

He is busy packing his briefcase with papers and is not even bothering to look me in the eyes. "Ms Summers, I have, as of late, noticed a certain lack on interest in my course material. You come to class distracted and seem to hardly be in the same room, much less the same time zone, as the rest of my students. Your work has also taken a noticeable downturn. Is everything all right?"

"What?" I ask. "You mean has my life suffered any serious shake ups or something?"

"Yes. Elegantly put I suppose," He replies still stuffing his case full.

"No. I was up late I admit but..."

He stops and tries to glare. "Students should spend less time partying and more time at their studies," He interrupts me. He's winding up for a full-blown lecture I can tell. Fine, you interrupt me I interrupt you.

"Actually I was working," I cut him off. I straighten my back a little, widen my stance.

"You're employed?"

"Yep," I nod. "Like you wouldn't believe. It's a security thing. Keeping people safe in their beds y'know the drill," I try a friendly half smile.

"Well, Ms Summers," the professor speaks ignoring my expression. He stuffs the last few papers in his briefcase. "You might want to request that your employers either cut down on your hours or give you a raise."

"Huh?" I raise my eyebrow. His voice, his tone. I can smell the hostility dripping off him. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

With a snap he slams his briefcase shut. "At this rate you'll flunk out of the college and need all the money you can get. Good day Ms Summers, see you bright and early Monday." He spins on his foot, briefcase in hand and is out the door.

The growl builds in my throat, the muscles in my leg start to tremble and clench. The skin on my hands begins to itch, my fingers claw at the material of my book bag; I feel it tear and give under the pressure.

You...you… pathetic, boring...dull...half-witted ...if you knew. If you only knew.

Cattle.

You're nothing but cattle.

Ugh, what a morning. I'm supposed to be a genius...or so I've been told but this was... headache. I mean head ache. Every single part of my head hurts.

Ears? Ringing with the piercing shrill of teacher's lectures.

Teeth? Aching from being clenched together as I try and keep up with my notes.

Skull? One solid block of pain.

Let's not even think about how my brain feels. I've learned that the brain itself has no actual nerves but right now I believe I have sufficient evidence to throw that medical fact out the window.

Eyes? Dry and tired from hours of squinting at a board that is too far aw- Oh there's Buffy.

Wow. It's suddenly a beautiful day.

Birds are singing, big puffy clouds bounce across the sky, grass is freshly mowed and bright green, Buffy's walking toward me with the tight features and the brisk step of someone really pissed off and..

Oh nuts.

She sits down beside me on the park bench, ignoring the lunch I bought her.

"Hi Buffy!" I say cheerfully trying a bright smile to break past whatever has got her in a bad mood. "What a surprise running into you here..," Nice one Rosenberg. "Er…despite the fact that we arranged to meet here and all. I bought lunch. See?"

"Willow," she brushes past my attempt at good humor.

"Uh...yeah Buffy?" This is not going to be fun.

"I want to apologize,"

Now I'm confused. I share this feeling by scratching the back of my head. "Okay," I say slowly. "What…for exactly?"

"Well," Buffy glances around us. The quad is pretty full. Lots of people are having lunch, probably cause it being twelve o'clock and all, so there's...um…people. Talking, laughing, studying; boys with girls, girls with boys. Y'know the regular. "Y'know that little rule we have?"

"Uh…rule?" I raise my eyebrows.

"The…uh," she stammers a bit and fidgets with her hands in her lap. "The one with...about…you...me…outside?"

Oh. OH! Sure. "Sure, the PDA rule. Yeah sure, gotta tone down the affection demonstration and all that. What about it?" I ask. I hope this doesn't take too much longer. I love Buffy to death and beyond (We actually have proof.) and I'd listen to her troubles no matter what but I am getting kinda hungry.

"I'm gonna break it," Buffy says flatly.

What?

For the second time today Buffy moves and I miss it even though I was looking right at her. She was sitting a foot or so from me now she's right beside me, hands on either side of my face kissing me fiercely. The sensation is- All the sensations are just too much. The warm sun, the noise of the crowd, Buffy's fingers running through my hair, her lips on mine. There is not a thought of protest in my body. None.

I go with it, with her, completely.

Sounds fade away, the glare of the sun through my closed eyes, the smell of flash fried fatty meats and glistening French fries, the crick in my back from being hunched over various desks for hours and hours.

Anxiety about having to spend hours studying in the library, even the normally always presents tension from my knowing about the Hellmouth and assorted badness, all of it.. gone.

It's just me.

Me and her.

Buffy. Just Buffy and I.

The kiss ends, she pulls away slowly and I open my eyes to see her looking back at me. Where moments ago her blue eyes were stormy and fierce they shine brightly now. Full of life and energy. Yep that's me, Willow, the SuperSlayerRecharge-O-Matic!

My senses kick in slowly and I smile to return the, dazzling one actually, Buffy is beaming at me. "Wow," she murmurs.

"I concur," I say. I feel goofy.

"I so needed that," she says still smiling, now, at nothing in particular.

I put a finger to my chin; "I'm not surprised to find that I was in need of that."

Something's wrong, hmm...buzzy brain...brain all fogged from Buffy kiss. What are you trying to tell me baffled brain o'mine?

The sun is shining, birds are singing, I've got a beautiful girlfriend who's sitting right next to, wearing an inane grin that I'd bet mine looks just like mine and all around us people are... not saying anything.

Oh.

Oh no.

Like a splash of cold water, like the chill wind this morning whatever buzz I was feeling dissipates. I turn my head slowly; Buffy too shakes off her fog and notices where I'm staring. I'm staring at everybody who's staring at us. Oh God. Oh no. Oh God.

Some people are just hanging there with their mouths open, more than a few boys are grinning, some are sorta...I guess... supportive looking though most appear to be lewd. I see one boy looking disgusted, as is the girl beside him. Other girls are looking at us the same way teens stare at their posters of teen idols. Most people just stare. A few whistles begin then a smattering of applause and before I know it the entire assembly in the quad is shouting, cheering, whooping and clapping. Behind this mass though I see some people walking quickly away.

My face burns and I glance at Buffy, she ...isn't embarrassed. She's reclining against the bench with a small, cocky, smirk on her face. Staring right back, openly, like a challenge, at the entire crowd. With her eyes still locked on the crowd she reaches out blindly, grabs my hand and presses it to her lips.

"Buffy...huh...wha…who," I helpfully add to the noise level.

"C'mon, let's go girlfriend!" Buffy laughs pulling me to my feet.

"Go? But...lunch...food. Hungry!" I feel like a passenger on a particularly loopy ride. Buffy dashes away from the quad pulling me after her, but I'm having a hard time matching her pace naturally enough. Without breaking stride Buffy yanks me into the air (how'd she do that without pulling my shoulder outta my socket?) and I land gently as a leaf in her arms. She giggles into my ear as I wrap my arms around her neck quickly. I've...this must be an odd site, or it would be if we were visible but we're not. Buffy keeps to the trees, using back trails and the underbrush to hide behind. She laughs the entire way and I can't help but join in. It's all just so crazy. One minute I'm moaning about classes to myself; the next at least fifty people see Buffy and I kiss (did we ever) and now Buffy is laughing a little crazy, carrying me in her arms darting around trees, ducking under branches and otherwise hurtling across the campus at breakneck speeds.

I do what anyone would do in these circumstances.

Throw my head back, kick my feet and laugh right along with the woman I love.

We reach our room in record time. Th-the buzz is back. I know what's going to happen, I know what she wants and I want it too. I want her too. Buffy barely has time to kick the door shut before I grab her head in my hands, lean up and resume the kiss we left off in the quad. She moves across the room, I think 'cause I have my eyes closed that or she flew, either way I don't notice how just when she sets me down on the bed. Without pause she lays herself next to me. I open my eyes slowly and, sure enough, she's staring at me with those bright, still shiny, blue eyes.

"Willow-" she begins.

I lay a finger across her lips. "Hush," I whisper. "Carpe diem."

"Carpe Willow" she mumbles around my finger.

"Carpe me then Buffy," I lay back and close my eyes.

I swear I think she's growling.

Than I can't pay attention anymore.

The sun has set.

She's asleep.

She's safe and asleep and full and warm.

I stand before the open window breathing in the cooling air, feeling the coming night. It drifts over me, caresses me, invites me.

They're out there; my prey. Going about their own feeding grounds trying to take the cattle. The cattle I am bound to protect.

They're not important though; I'll do my job well enough. My world a simple one.

My prey.

My hunt.

My mate.

Myself.

She sleeps now and so I must go. She fulfills me, completes me but still ...

I want to feel the earth between my toes, the night parting before me, the weight of my prey and taste of their ash in my mouth.

They're going about their hunting now, looking for cattle to feed off of. I feel my lips curl at the thought. They also seek me; some out of a suicidal quest for glory, others out of fear, who am I to keep them waiting?

I pause, give one last glance to the tousle haired redhead safely wrapped around her pillow. I touch her cheek with my fingers and let them linger for a moment, savoring her heat. I yield to one further temptation and bury my face in her hair inhaling deeply.

Then, pulling up the covers to protect her from any chills and with her scent in my mind, I hurtle out the window.

Dark out.

END- First Lesson


	2. Second Lesson

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr...Arrgh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

Dianna Wears Red-Primus

Second Lesson

"Mmm...Buffy that was...," I slide my hand across the bed expecting it to find warm skin and soft blonde hair. Instead my caress is spent on the cold pillowcase where my Slayer should be peacefully slumbering. I sit up. "Buffy?"

A cool breeze blows gently across the room from the open window beside the bed where Buffy used to sleep. I can make out the most of the room 'cause of the moonlight slanting through the blinds and among the rumbled shapes of tossed blankets, discarded clothing I noticeably miss any curved, pale, skinny Summers.

"Buffy?" I say to the empty room.

"Now where did she go?" I grumble to myself. Reluctantly I swing my feet over the edge of the bed. My skin voices its protests and being dragged from warm bedding by going incredibly goosepimply as the cooler night air make contact.

Grumbling I stumble to the window. "Sheesh, leave it to an open window to ruin a perfectly good afterglow," I mutter.

Deliberately ignoring the glowing red display of the time on our new alarm clock, I find it works better if I remain oblivious of lateness, I grab a towel and the shampoo.

"Maybe Buffy went to take a shower," I catch a wiff of myself. "Mmm...possibly. I'm not too keen on ed du cathouse."

I hope she went to take a shower, cause I'm not sure I like it when I wake up with my lover absent.

Heh, that made my skin tingle. Lover, Buffy, lover, Buffy, lover. Wow, tingle city. But...but where is she?

As I reach for my bathrobe, hanging in the closet, I see Buffy's still on its hanger right beside my own.

"Okay," I mutter slipping into my robe. "So, unless Buffy decided to go streaking she's not in the showers. Patrol?"

I roll that thought around in my head. It's possible, and she has slipped out after I've fallen asleep before but her clothes are still here, tangled among my own like I imagined we'd still be when I woke up.

Still, usually when she decides to dash off on a patrol she wakes me. True, I don't really totally wake up all the time but I do remember it the next day. Now, now I remember nothing like that. We fell asleep together and then...poof she's gone. She has been kinda distracted a bit too. Or maybe I'm seeing too much into this. Yeah, yeah that's it. She just didn't want to wake me after that...after that glorious...wow...I mean. Still, she should have woken me.

I shrug, after all she probably slipped into some 'patrol' clothes. Yeah, she looks great in her leather jacket and jeans but, as she's said many times, it's easier to kick a vamps face in wearing sweatpants.

I got some studying to do anyway, after skipping afternoon classes I better catch up. I'll wait for her after I take my shower.

"Sir, I've got something."

Crouching under a tree that marks one of the edges of the campus I wave the private over motioning for the rest of the squad to halt. Just past the tree line I can make out the beginning of one of the many cemeteries dotting across Sunnydale. Prime spots for acquiring subjects for the lab coats back at the HQ.

"What do you have private?" I ask him.

He crouches down next to me and pulls out his motion detector. "Movement sir, about a hundred meters to the south,"

"Why is that interesting private? This is a town after all, people moving about, small woodland creature and so on," I've giving him a hard time, I know perfectly well the scanners are programmed to ignore targets below a certain mass. I'm doing this so he learns to be more precise with his reports, there is no time for wasted speech in the field.

"Heat signature sir. Whatever is moving out there doesn't have one. It's the same temperature as its surroundings."

"Coordinates?" I snap.

He rattles of a long string of positional data. Translated it means 'that-a-way'.

I stand up. "Okay men," I turn to the rest of the patrol. "Science division just asked for us to acquire a vampire for some new tests. So this op is a bag n' capture, not a take down. That means this will be a little trickier." I point to the two most experienced men in the squad. "Parker, you're with me at point," I glance at Forrest. "Forrest, you bring up the rear, make sure nobody gets lost." I see Forrest roll his eyes, he hates babysitting. "Get those tazers amped people," I order standing up. "Everyone follow Evans."

"Holy...!" The private still crouching beneath the tree exclaims.

"Report!" I snap at him again. This guy is going to get us all killed. If he doesn't learn to not react to the unexpected we're in trouble. He should know by now to not react to the unexpected but simply to report it.

"The target sir, it's vanished!" He exclaims scrambling to his feet. What did he see on the scanner of his?

"What?" I peer over his shoulder at the readout on his scanner. "What happened?"

He's punching buttons on the keyboard. "I'm...I'm not sure sir."

"Be sure soldier!" Behind me Parker and Forrest begin to shift their weight while Travis starts glancing at the dark trees around us. The private's case of nerves is beginning to infect the others. Not good.

"Something...that is..." He says, his voice trembling. He swallows and starts over his voice rock steady this time. "Sir, scanners registered a new target approaching the suspected vampire at incredible speeds, they met for a split second and the suspected vampire's signal was lost. Whatever it is sir, it took that vampire out in under a second. Before I could get any further data the new target was off my scope. The only thing I managed to get was the secondary target's speed and temperature,"

Now that's a report. "And they were?"

"Sir, secondary target was moving at a ground speed of just under forty miles per hour with a temperature of one hundred and five degrees sir. Whatever it is, its running hot," He punches a few more buttons on the display. "Verified sir. One hundred and five."

"A vehicle?" I ask.

"Negative sir. Mass sensors put the secondary target at around that of a normal human. Probably around one hundred pounds," He turns slowly in place. "Annndd...,"

"Private?" My temper is fraying.

"Sir. Targets course is north, from where we came. Sir whatever it is it's heading for the campus."

I ratchet a fresh charge pack into my tazer rifle. "You can track it?"

The private fiddles with a few more dials. "Affirmative sir. Its got a pheromone signature a mile wide,"

I nod and turn to the rest of the patrol. "Change of orders gentlemen. We got something new. Capabilities are unknown, threat level is unknown. Primary objective is capture for study but we'll take it down if we have to. Arm your tazers, no live fire except on my order. Parker, radio this is in and catch up with us at the edge of the campus. Move out!"

Being of the squeaky-clean persuasion I feel much better. Of course being squeaky-clean requires one to have just stepped out of a shower and having just stepped out of a shower means being damp and being damp in the cool air of the hallway, wearing only a bathrobe, means I am forced to also be of the cold persuasion.

Teeth chattering like crazy now I can't get the damn key in the door.

C'mon, c'mon I need snugglies! Oh great dropped em' okay, come back here you little metal...finally.

I fling the door open wide and bolt through, "Honey I'm homHUH?" The words catching in my throat hurt a bit and its with luck I don't dissolve into a coughing fit. My breath catches and I can feel my eyes go really wide. Something falls on my foot, I think its my keys but I'm not sure. I'm too busy to notice.

Cause...Buffy is home but...she's not supposed to be perched on the windowsill!

Her feet shouldn't be muddy, she shouldn't have a few leaves tangled in her hair and she really shouldn't be naked while having muddy feet or perching on the windowsill. But she is perched on the windowsill and her feet are muddy and she is naked. My brain is stuck in a loop.

She sits, perched on the windowsill, her bangs hanging over her forehead low concealing her eyes. Her hands are gripping the edge of the sill stabilizing her while her legs are curled beneath her. I can see the muscles bunched up, tense and ready to push her off. Where though I don't know; into the room or out into the night?

I don't think-

I don't think, okay I mean I do think; lots actually but I don't think she expected me to be awake. Is she going to run? Was this what she was hiding...what exactly is she hiding? A streaking fetish? Kinky yes, if true but not totally put offish. I think, I mean I'll have to think about it a bit, get used to the idea I suppose but I do love her and...oh God she might be getting ready to run. Have to say something, something uh... caring. Yeah. Okay. I can do that. I care about her after all.

"Buffy? Is...what are... what are you doing?" It takes a few seconds but I manage to hammer out a sentence. "Where have you been? What's going on?"

Her head tilts up and in the dim light I can make out her eyes. She sees me and ... so...she can see me and I see her recognize me, she's smiling; its a warm smile. Like the kind she gave me a few hours ago, looking down on me as I lay underneath her. She was stroking my face with her hand, the same place over and over from my left temple down the side of my face to my chin. Just the tips of her fingertips really touched me and it was so light that even though she did it over and over it never got irritating. She smiled at me when she was doing this, just like she's doing now, and in that smile I felt warm and ...loved. She was telling me with out words that she loved me and she'd be with me and, somehow I knew this but I don't know how I knew, she was telling me she'd be patient with me. That she'd never grow frustrated or bored or upset.

Now she's sitting on our windowsill, without any clothing on, the mud from outside dripping from between her toes to fall on the dresser and she's smiling at me. And that smile is telling me the same thing.

I feel loved.

I feel warm.

I feel patient.

Instinct prompts me and I know. She's not wild, not an animal but she is. I think, she just wants to know how I feel and she wants to know that everything is okay. I think. She hasn't said anything, only acted and she's waiting for me to act to, to respond in kind to her. There's only one thing I can do, want to do. I kneel down slowly and hold my arms open and smile back at her. "Come here," I whisper. "Come to me."

Buffy gives a quiet mew of joy and leaps into the room. Only she could send herself screaming through the air yet curl into my arms without knocking me over. She rests her head on my lap and wraps her arms around my waist. I don't feel nervous or hesitant, I have no doubt or fear. Just...patient. I begin to pick the various leaves out of her hair and other stuff. There's a little mud mingled in but I pick that out too. Buffy sighs softly, I guess she enjoys being fussed over. I certainly enjoy doing the fussing.

"You're going to track mud all over the room," I mutter in a fake growl.

"S'okay, I'll clean it up," she mumbles into my bathrobe.

Her response catches me a little by surprise. "Hey, you can talk!"

She rolls onto her back and eyes me warily. "Yeah Will, did that whole 'learning to speak' when I was two. Or it could have been three. I always was a slow starter."

I grin sheepishly and shrug. "I...uh...meant that, well, with you looking so...er."

"Primal," Buffy offers.

"Yeah primal, I thought maybe neanderBuffy had decided to make an encore," I pause. "It's not that is it."

Its not a question. Something has happened to Buffy, there's been a change in the elements, an addition. I look at her carefully and, yeah, something has been added. I can...uhm...feel it.

"You're more," I whisper.

"Yes," she whispers back to me. Buffy doesn't look away, or glance elsewhere when she says it. She looks at me steadily. Looking for my reaction I think. Maybe she's afraid of whatever is going on, but she's not running away from it either.

"You knew this happened, you knew something had changed inside and you didn't tell me," I can't help it, feeling a little hurt. I have no right to know every single thing going on in Buffy's head and no wish too but at the same time the idea that she was uh...growing? And didn't tell me, well, that bothers me. Its not like I wouldn't have understood or something. Its not like I would have abandoned her like some people I could mention, but won't, its not polite.

This is a...this is a big thing though, biggity big big if she's...changing somehow. I want to know about these things. The good, the bad, the...the...uhm...light and the dark. I want her to feel free to tell me anything and not have to worry about my reaction.

I want her to be perfectly comfortable of coming right up to me, tapping me on the shoulder and looking me square in the eye and say, 'Willow, I have a streaking fetish.' and I'd look her right back and say, 'That's nice dear, could you let me know where and when? I'd really like to watch sometimes.' See? And everything would be okay.

And if, and if, if she had to come up to tell me something less funny, I mean funny ha-ha, not funny strange, she could. Just walk up to me and say, again with the steady eye contact, 'Willow, I'm changing into something a bit more animalistic.' and I could say...could say... I'm not sure what I'd say to that actually.

I want her to love me and know I lover her unconditionally. That's what I want; good or bad, richer or poorer, in sickness and health and so on and so forth.

Uh...aren't those wedding vows?

Wow.

Buffy looks away for a moment, and her movement snaps me back to the present. I can tell she's about to back away. I reach out with both hands and gather her close again. "No, no, no naughty slayer. No running away,"

Buffy giggles quietly in my arms. She settles in comfortably, not holding herself away. "Naughty?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes. We have documented proof," and I stick my tongue at her.

The opportunity for joking ends though, the witticisms have been used and there's no more room for Buffy to maneuver away from my earlier statement. She doesn't look away from me. She reaches up and traces the counters of my face with her fingertips, easing her touch over my eyebrows and down the ridge of my nose, over my lips, I reflexively pucker up to kiss her fingers. Then she reaches back and does it again, and again, and again.

It feels so nice, just...this thing we do. We can do. If it makes her feel better to caress me like this then I can wait, if this makes Buffy feel more secure than I say Go Buffy. Besides, it feels great!

She's still caressing me this way when she finally speaks. Her fingers dancing over me, her head in my lap, my arms cushioning her and in the middle of all this she finally replies.

"I didn't not tell you Willow. I didn't even know about it until now,"

"Huh?" I'm supposed to be the smart one and I can't understand that statement. I roll it around in my mind for a split second and come up with zero. Smiling a little bit I take her hands in my own, kiss her palms and then say, "You're going to have to clear that up a bit Buffy."

"It's...um...it's like breathing. You breathe in and out right?" she looks at me, seeing if I'm following. I nod, I am...I think.

" Well," she continues. "What if you, for no real reason, just started breathing deeper? Slower? You might not even notice it until someone pointed it out to you. That's me. You caught me doing it," she points at me with both hands. "And now I realize how weird it is but until I saw it as someone else saw it...," Buffy shrugs. "It just felt so...I dunno...normal."

"Normal to run around late night Sunnydale bereft of apparel doing God knows what?" I giggle at the mental image, I don't want her to think I'm accusing her.

"I was hunting."

Pulling herself out my embrace Buffy stands up and walks to the window, its open again the full weight of the moonlight blasting through.

"Its wonderful Willow; me and the night. It slides over my skin like...," she shakes her head. "Everything is alive, even the night beasts. They add to it, make it spicy. Can you believe that? They've been here for so long that they now have actually found a niche."

She glances at me and sees my disbelieving look. "Oh not that that makes them any less loathsome or slayworthy," Buffy amends.

Her gaze turns back out the window. "It actually helps me, I can feel them, smell them I know where and why they are."

She stands naked in the moonlight. Her skin just drinks it in and there's this glow about her. She doesn't stand out in any way. She should, being naked, looking out the window where any lucky passerby could see her, I'd have to kill them, yet she looks...right. I...she's saying the truth. She has changed somehow, before she invaded the night, patrolling and dusting vamps and beasties. Now she is part of the night. Or maybe, the beasties always were the invaders?

I want to be with her. I want to feel the moon.

"Where are they?" The words come to me without thinking. My lips are dry, I'm so thirsty.

"Out there," Buffy gestures with a hand.

"Why are they?" Again I don't think the words they are just there. I'm thirsty, thirsty for her.

"For me,"

"Private, you sure it went this way?" We're all huddled in the shadow of the dorm. The full moons lights blocked off by the walls.

"Sir, yes sir. The target came this way but the path just stops at the wall," The private moves around stealthily with his scanner held in front of him, boy should learn not to just depend on his fancy toys.

I scan the earth quickly but the grass is smooth and even. "It didn't dig down. Forrest, hand me the thermocs". My buddy tosses me the thermal imagining binoculars. I take a few steps away from the concealing shadows of the building, in this moonlight if anyone happens to look out the window I'll be spotted for sure. Oh well...

I scan the rooms quickly looking for anything with a temperature, for a change, above normal.

"Sir!"

"Better be good private," I don't stop checking the building. Well at least he didn't just say 'Holy cow.,' or 'Wow,' but cut to the chase. Now all we need to do is work on volume control.

"Locked on sir, the target must have jumped sir,"

"We figured that out already private," I keep checking the rooms, it's a bit tricky, most people are in bed and that means their temperatures are a bit higher, I have to take core temperatures and it takes a few seconds for the thermocs to get a good reading.

"Second floor sir, third room from the right," The private adds.

"That's useful information private," Gotcha.

I check the room out and immediately dive back into the shadows dragging the private with me.

"What's wrong?" Forrest asks as soon as I rejoin the group.

"It's standing right by the window," I hiss at him.

"We goin' in?" He asks, I can hear his smile behind the mask. Sometimes I worry a little about my good buddy. I don't mind jumping in and bustin' a few heads when it's needed but Forrest always strikes me as a tad...eager.

"Getting confirmation first but," I nod again. "I'd put a bet on it."

Turning away I grab the radio.

"HQ, HQ, this is Lilac. Come in HQ, over."

"HQ online, Lilac. Report, over."

"Report as follows HQ, unknown possible HST, capabilities unknowns, threat level unknown. Have tracked back to campus. Suspected HST believed to be in a dorm room, repeat inside a dorm room. Requesting permission to intercede. Possible, no, probable civilian casualty imminent. Over."

"HQ acknowledges. Stand by Lilac," A few tense seconds pass as I wait for a response. Somebody could be dying, or dead, or worse turned. Which just would make my job harder.

My men begin to jostle each other; even the green private has put away his electronic toys and is checking over his tazer while muttering to himself.

"HQ online Lilac. Word is go, repeat word is go. Cutting power to dorms in five. Good hunting, over," The radio blares in my ear.

"Acknowledged HQ. Lilac out," I stand up and motion the men to position themselves by the doors. As soon as the power goes we'll go in, locate the HST, isolate it, capture it and be out. Standard bag and grab. Done it a hundred times. Routine.

The private's words from echo in my mind. 'Clocked at nearly forty miles per hour. Vampire down in under a second. Forty miles...under a second... I tighten my grip around the stock of my tazer. Nothing about this will be routine.

"This is new territory gentlemen," I say. "Total unknown. Forrest, Parker take point, Travis bring up the rear. Evens you're with me." I am not letting you outta my sight greenboy.

"Head for the side entrance, we take the emergency stairs to the second floor, hustle down the hall. Avoid all civilian contact, if you're spotted what do you do?" I demand of the men.

"Ignore civvies, acquire target, kick ass sir!" they say as one.

"Good answer," I grunt. "Let's move it."

"All those monsters are there for you?" I ask. I can feel the squeak in my voice, but what if she cares more about the monsters more than me? She's so...I dunno...brimming with oneness in the moonlight. I want to be there with her so badly now. She won't leave me behind will she? No, she'd never do that.

"Not really," Buffy says still looking up at the moon. "I just like saying that. Its so rich though baby. Being out there like this, just...slipping past and through and with it. God, its ..."

She breaks off and silently stands in front of the window, surrounded by a pool of white light. Her shadow stretching across the floor and over me. I hesitantly get to my feet and walk up behind her. I need to touch her, know that I'm still allowed to touch her. I'm going to embrace her but its me who wants the move comfort from it.

Don't leave me behind, Buffy.

I wrap my arms around her waist linking my fingers; she leans back into my embrace and rests her hands on top of mine.

"They're there for you then," I mumble while kissing her shoulder. Her skin has always been a little pale but in the moonlight its like milk. "What about me then? Why am I here?"

She spins in my arms and kisses me softly. The kiss breaks off before long and she's smiling at me. "Wrong question," Buffy whispers moving her lips to my ear.

"What's the right question?" I whisper back.

"Why am I here?" she kisses the tip of my ear.

"Why are you here then?"

Buffy pulls away, out of my embrace and climbs onto the windowsill again, facing into the room, her legs bunched underneath her again. "For you love," she still smiles. "For you."

I let out a long sigh of relief. "You're not going to leave me then?" I ask.

"What?" Buffy asks more than a little shocked. "No, never Will."

"Will you," I swallow. "Will you tell me about it then? Share it with me so I can know what its like and be there, in a small way, with you?"

She glances over her shoulder through the window before turning back to me with a look of longing; she holds out her hands. "I can't tell you what it's like Willow. I just don't have the words," Her look becomes one of pleading. "I can't tell you but if you come with me I can show you."

"In here?" I ask the private. Parker and Forrest are on either side of the door, I'm across from it with the private beside me. I think his name is Evens. The rest of the men are behind Parker and Forrest.

Evens checks his equipment one last time.

"Yes sir. Target confirmed, looks like whatever it is trying to lure the occupant of this room out the window,"

"Hey, what do we do about the civvie?" Forrest asks.

"Standard policy," I reply. "They could have been compromised so we gotta knock em' out and take em' in for testing. Restrained force though got me?"

Forrest nods. "Gotcha,"

I raise my leg to kick the door in. "Let's do it,"

I reach out to grasp Buffy's hands, to let her take me where she wants so she can show me. My heart is singing. She's not going to just tell me about it, she's going to show me! Show me! She's going to show me how she's...uh...night Buffy? Ugh, sounds like a Bat-Man rip off.

We're going to run, I know that and when I can't keep up she'll carry me and I'll be there all the way, and all the time and oh yes, yes yes yes!

Right before I can take her hands in mine, I can almost feel the warm, strength of her palms gripping my hands, Buffy's eyes flicker over my shoulder and she vanishes.

"Buffy where did-?" I begin then in rapid sequence I hear the slight whispering of movement over my head and the splintering of the door frame behind me. When whoever, whatever, they are burst into the room Buffy is standing there waiting for them.

They don't have a chance.

Before the first one can bring his...his...ray gun? To bear Buffy lashes out with her left and sends him spinning; before he can fall though her arm blurs and reverses direction so her elbow crashes into his head. He spins slowly in place and slumps over.

Its been less than a second since Buffy leaped from the windowsill over my head.

The other things silhouetted in the door seem stunned by the fact that one of their number has already fallen.

I think I hear one of the mutter, "Holy cow."

I finally get a good look at the intruders. They're all wearing camouflage pants, vests, and some sort of masks with...hey I recognize those, night vision goggles!

Throwing off their stupor the remaining ...soldiers...rush Buffy. One of them points his ray gun at her and I give a short scream as a bolt of lightning seems to arch across the room. He misses Buffy by the proverbial mile but it still scared the hell out of me.

About five of these people have pushed through the door way now and they're all rushing Buffy. One of them tries to swing his gun at her head like a club while another goes for a leg sweep. She jumps over the one with the gun and give his arm a gently push on her way over his head. His swing misses her but connects with his buddy's leg. There's another wicked cracking sound and the soldier who got hit falls to the ground screaming and cradling his injured limb.

That leaves four standing, the one who just bashed in his friends leg, and three more near the ruined door of our room. Buffy lands lightly on all floors. Her long hair hangs over her face so she's staring at the intruders through her tangled locks. Is she...laughing?

She's laughing! This light, quiet giggle. Armed soldiers who look like some rejects from Ghostbusters have just busted in our room, she's taken out two of them and she's laughing!

The leader, cause he gives a few orders, waves the other two near the doorway, they begin to ease around Buffy who doesn't move. She just keeps laughing this eerie quiet laugh. As the soldiers flank her she occasionally glances at the ones to her left and right but for the most part keeps her eyes locked on the one in the doorway, the soldier who I, and I guess she too, has identified as the leader.

"Fry it," The words are said dry and quietly; the tone of someone who is used to giving commands and expects them to be obeyed without hesitation.

The instance the last syllable is out of his mouth the other soldiers bring their weapons up.

Everything has happened so fast. I guess it's been maybe ten seconds since Buffy was perched on the windowsill. Ten seconds since she was asking, no begging, me to go out with her too see...something. It was very important to her and so important to me as well. Now we're under attack by men dressed up like weekend warriors except they're anything but. Yes, they've got guns that look like they're from a cracker-jack box but the two-foot long scorch mark on the wall says they're deadly serious. Now these goons have got Buffy encircled and are going to try and shoot her? To blast her and, um...drag her off...somewhere and ...and...do all sorts of her hideous experiments on her? Like something out of X-Files or something?

I don't think so.

Before I can reconsider I jump up and try to dash by the soldier closest to me.

"Civvie's jetting!" he shouts.

"Intercept," The one by the door barks. In one brisk stride the soldier has caught up with me and he's reaching out to ...grab me...manhandle...beat me down maybe but its too late. I'm where I want to be.

The light switch.

With a triumphant smirk I flip it. I'm expecting the lights to turn on, I'm expecting shouts and curses from the soldiers as their night scopes go blinding in the actually comfortable lighting of our dorm room.

Nothing happens.

They cut the power.

The soldier coming at me sees what I tried to do and I know I'm in trouble.

"You trying to help this thing, you stupid bitch?" He snarls at me.

I squeak and eye the tip of his ray gun now an inch from the tip of my nose.

"Fucking traitor," The soldier snarls in my ear.

I don't even see his hand move. One second I'm staring at the tip of his gun and then everything is all red and stars and pain.

And screaming.

I think its Buffy screaming. A shrill, shining, climbing, shriek. Then ...there are other screams. Sounds a bit lower. Lower pitched like voices not used to going so high on the scream-o-meter. Cracking too. Lots of cracking.

I sniff.

No. Nobodies making popcorn so what's all the cracking and popping sounds?

The lights are off, the room is dark except for the bright spots swimming around me. Somebody picks me up.

Somebody is crying.

'There, there. 'I say or want to say. 'There there.' I want to say, 'Its okay, everything is okay.'

But I can't. The swirly bright spots are so pretty and they distract me.

I can feel the wind, I can feel the wind and its so cool and soft. I can feel someone's arms holding me and they're so strong and warm and I can feel the stars.

I can feel the stars. So light. So soft.

Falling from above, wet and hot and bright.

Like tears.

It's dark and I know we're not in the dorm anymore. It's okay though, even if it's so dark its okay because I'm with Buffy. It may be dark but I have the stars and the tears to guide me.

END-Second Lesson


	3. Third Lesson

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.(Grrr...arrrgh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents

A Mad-Hamlet production

Dianna Wears Red- Primus

Third Lesson

It's dark.

The dark is fading, though. I become more aware; pulling away from sleep I am more aware of a sullen glow pulsing slowly through my eyelids. So it's dark because my eyes are closed. That makes sense I suppose. I better find out where I am. Let's open the eyes and, quite literally, see what we see.

Jesus. That hurt. All I wanted to do was open my eyes and my entire body voiced its protests very loudly. Alright, we'll just lie here a bit and recover our strength. We'll be ready to try again in, oh, maybe three or four weeks.

"You're awake, agent?"

Dr. Walsh! Instinct kicks in and I try and come to attention.

Ow. That hurt. That hurt a lot. Okay, not going to do that again anytime soon.

Military procedure or not I'm just going to float here in my private universe, ignoring the lights outside. Procedure be damned.

I feel a warm hand touch me on the shoulder briefly. "Rest now, Agent Finn. The report can wait."

I open my mouth to reply, as any soldier would to a superior. I want to say 'Yes Ma'am.'

What I hear, before what little light there is begins to fall away, is "Yessh mMMmm."

Then all the lights go away.

Silent.

Quiet. Kinda nice.

"Willow?" her voice, breaks the quiet. In a smooth way though, so I don't mind.

It's dark.

Can't see anything at all. Just the black before me, and I know it's behind me, all around me. I should be scared but I'm not. If it was just dark I'd be terrified; but it's not just me alone in the dark. She's here, she's holding me close and watching me very carefully. I can't see her but I know it. I know it like I know the sun will be up tomorrow and that all the bad things will be running for cover.

I know she's here. How do I know? I'm warm.

The dark is usually cold and empty but this dark is so warm and full and...and...and stuff. I can't exactly feel the warmth. Just that I'm aware of it. Aware of her, of me, floating comfortably aware but not alarmed in this not scary, not lonely darkness.

It's a good, warm darkness! Like a fuzzy blanket.

As I think about it I'm growing more aware of my surroundings.

Hearing is the first thing to kick in. I can hear the crickets chirping from somewhere. Down I think. Oh and there a soft wind now! I hear branches rustling in that quiet way they do when a simple breeze moves them. And there's a car! I can hear traffic, which is good though at the same time it's kinda bad. Not that I can hear the traffic, means ears are working. Go you ear drums yeah! Course cars mean exhaust and exhaust is pollution and pollution is bad. See? I hope the trees in the breeze will be okay and not get hurt from the pollution.

Oh, oh, yay! Smell is back. Dear, dear sense of smell how we missed you. I can smell ...can smell...mmm...fresh air. Fresh cool air and it has all these lovely quiet smells with it. Sweet and...mmm...kinda wet. Like a...like a...uhmm...pollen! Yeah! It's pollen. Oh no! My allergies!

Check that, I don't have allergies. Alright then, pollen is okay with me. Sweet, sweet pollen.

And here is my good friend taste. Not that there is a lot to taste right now. My mouth is kinda sticky though; sorta gummy. Sour, bleah. Still, I have to welcome taste back because without it I'd never be able to enjoy another choco-double-mocha-creamoliscious! A critical part of any college students' diet.

Great, now all we need is touch and sight and I'll be ready to face the world.

Wait, wait...here comes touch no-

Hearing tells me I'm crying. My own quiet moan echoes in my ears and taste adds to the argument by informing me it's no longer worried about cotton mouth. It's tasting the salt of my tears; all this is blown away by the overwhelming screaming that Touch is doing. My entire head hurts, the left side of my face feels all swollen and hot. That sick, deathly hot of something broken and needing help to fix it.

I grit my teeth and Touch is happy to inform me that that is making the pain worse. I whimper, I don't need hearing to know that now. Everything is working perfectly. All my senses are again a seamless team and I'm aware of everything instantly.

And then they share something better with me. Her arms are around me. Her arm supporting me and with her other hand I can feel her caressing my face, the side that doesn't hurt.

"Shhhh," I hear her say. "Shhhh..."

"Buffy?" My throat is sore and I can barely hear myself what with all the ringing going on in my head. I'm not sure I can actually hear it, but I know its there.

"Shhhh," she says again. "Rest. I've got you. You're safe now, I'll watch. Rest."

"It hurts," I whine. A fresh wave of pain rolls against me and I bite down, try not to cry out. My stomach heaves at the effort. "It hurts a lot."

"I know," Buffy murmurs. "I know it does. Try and rest. I've got you, everything will be okay."

I want to ask her how she honestly thinks I can get any sleep with this screaming ache grinding in my head. But, I can't hear her anymore. Then I can't feel the pain, the sound of crickets, traffic and the breeze winks out and I can't taste anything anymore.

I'm warm though. Warm, comfortable and safe. She's got me.

Again the darkness fades away and the first thing I notice is the constant thrum of the life support system. Usually you don't hear it. It's always there but after a living here for so long you block it out. I'm not blocking it out now though. My mind latches onto it like a lifeline and uses it to climb out of the dark.

The next thing I hear is the regular beeping of a heart monitor. It's pretty close so my guess is that's it's for me. Finally there's my old friend the glow of the overhead lights.

"Great." I mutter reflexively. I tense up, expecting protest, an ache anything from my body telling me to shut up and not move. Nothing happens.

"Ah, you're awake Agent Finn." Dr. Walsh says. She's still here? What she watched over me or something?

I open my eyes slowly, the dull glow becomes piercing and I blink a few times as my eyes adapt to the glare.

"Easy," Dr. Walsh says. She's standing at the foot of my bed, clipboard in hand studying whatever it is that's clipped to the clipboard. "Take your time."

She doesn't actually look at me.

I slowly sit up and this does cause a few grumbles from my muscles but not anything I can't ignore. That's better. Now what's first, oh yeah, my report.

"Agent Riley Finn ready to make his report Ma'am," I say briskly.

"Very well Agent," Dr. Walsh replies, setting the clipboard aside and pulling up a chair. "Whenever you're ready."

She leans back, folds her arms across her chest and stares straight at me without blinking. Every time she does this I can't help but feel like something on an operating table. I fight off the urge to squirm uncomfortably. Keeping my eyes firmly focused on a spot just behind her I fill her in on what happened.

"Alpha Squad was on a bag and grab op for a vampire HST per request of the science division," I began.

"Yes, I know," Dr. Walsh interrupts. "I'm fully aware of everything that happened up to the point where you actually confronted the unidentified threat Agent. Please begin there."

"Yes Ma'am," I nod. "Upon entering the room we attempted to encircle the unidentified HST. We never had a chance Ma'am. Whatever it was moved far to fast for us to even begin setting up a containment circle. Within two seconds Agents Corporal Travis and Private Evans were down, Travis having been struck by Private Evans' own rifle when the HST dodged the private's swing. It was so fast Ma'am. I didn't even get a good look at it. That's the last thing I can remember clearly Ma'am. Everything after that is a blur."

"That's it Agent?" Dr. Walsh raises one eyebrow. "One second you're aware of everything in the combat and the next you're not?"

"Ma'am, up to a certain point, I'd guess about ten seconds after we entered the room; the HST was playing with us." I fumble about, my head is hurting and I can't really remember...hold on. "Ma'am the HST seemed to be laughing. If I didn't know better it was enjoying itself."

"Enjoying itself," Dr. Walsh echoes. "Then it suddenly grows, what, bored with you and proceeds to demolish your entire squad?"

"I'm...I'm not sure Ma'am." I say weakly.

"Be sure Agent." Dr. Walsh snaps, leaning forward in her chair. "We can have no assumptions, or guesses in this line of work. Those get people killed. We need facts. You are dangerously low on them."

"Yes Ma'am. Just give me a minute Ma'am." I reply quickly. What happened? It's a good question, I now distinctly remember whatever that thing was laughing at us and then...then...right, then it was screaming. Screaming, more of a full-throated howl. Why was it screaming? I'm sure we didn't get a hit in, so we hadn't hurt it so what set it off?

I try and remember exactly what happened. The civilian, she...

"Civilian's Jetting!" I remember Forrest shouting. What did I do? Standard procedure I ordered him to intercept. Then...the...a sound, the thing's laughing, Travis's screaming about his leg and one other sound. Two sounds really, someone hitting someone else and the shriek of a ...of a... a woman being struck. Then the HST's howl and after that...nothing, nothing but pain.

"Ma'am," I say. "I believe I have an idea what set the HST off."

"Please proceed, agent." Dr. Walsh says clearly giving an order.

Things don't come back one by one like they did earlier. Everything just snaps back; systems online kind of thing.

I can't help but groan again. I roll over, or try to but find myself restrained. Slowly opening my eyes I look up and see Buffy's eyes meeting mine.

"Hi there," she whispers to me. "Feeling better?"

I work my jaw slowly, trying to get a feel for what the pain in my face will allow for and what it won't.

I settle for shaking my head slowly. "Not a whole lot," I mutter. "Where are we?"

Buffy glances around quickly, "About thirty feet off the ground in a really big tree."

What?

"We're in a tree?" I ask.

"What's wrong with trees?" Buffy answers my questions with one of her own. "They're big and strong. The leaves keep out the rain well enough, if it's raining, and tames the wind."

She's quiet for a few seconds.

"Topsoil," Buffy says under her breath. "I'm not sure where I heard this but I think that trees are important to topsoil. Though, I can't remember why. You're the supposed to be the smart one; you tell me."

"We're in a tree?" I repeat.

"Yes Willow, we're in a tree. I couldn't take you back to the dorm."

I try and touch my face but Buffy intercepts the move and gently forces my hand back to my side. "Let me."

Her fingers are cool, soothing and very light. My face still feels hot and kinda thick, her touch brings a blessed relief to the constant ache; so much so that I close my eyes for a few seconds just to enjoy the feeling.

When I open them again the sun is on the horizon.

"You're awake again?" Buffy asks, I'm still in her arms. Hours must have passed between one eyeblink and the next and she held me the entire time.

I move my tongue along the inside of my mouth, searching for sore spots, trying to anticipate how much actual movement may cause more pain. Other than a dull, steady ache everything seems relatively okay. Alright, my preferable definition of 'Okay' means no pain anywhere but considering how much it hurt a while ago I guess how I feel now can be labeled 'Okay'. Maybe even a 'Well enough'.

Dare I hope, 'peachy'?

Just to be on the safe side I nod in answer to Buffy's question.

"How we feeling?" she asks.

"I was considering 'peachy' ," I say quietly. "In that, only because you're holding me and I'm right here that things are peachy. If you weren't you and I wasn't here yet in this amount of pain I might reconsider and reliable the experience 'Ow plus yikes.' I'd even be questioning this whole mortal coil stuff."

Instead of laughing at my joke the shadows under Buffy's eyes darken and the light in her eyes fades away. Her jaw barely moves and it looks like she has to force the words out of the narrow line her lips have set.

"Don't say that," she hisses. "Don't ever say anything like that!" She puts strong emphasis on the 'ever'. I remember a dream, the way she speaks makes me remember a dream. Of a place with only one road and a door and a...a...guardian of some sort. I remember a dream but it wasn't a dream. It should be a dream, but its not I know its not, the brass sphere, Buffy's golden ball it tells me that what should have been a dream, wasn't.

Her eyes glare down at me and the dull ache in my head seems erased as...as...fear...fear takes its place.

"Uh...sorry. No more jokes about that then, my bad I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me I didn't mean it really!" I squeak in one long breathless speech. "Buffy you're scaring me."

Her look softens and my apprehension falls away with it. She looked so, so wild.

"I'm sorry Will," she says. Again her fingers gently touch trace the edge of my left ear. I begin to hiss in anticipated pain but there isn't any. She's that careful. "I should be sorry. I let them do this to you. I should have been faster, not so...so...stupid."

"Stupid?" My eyebrows shoot up and it only hurts a eensy teensy bit. Progress.

Buffy looks away from me, directly at the rising sun and it's strange but the light doesn't really touch her face. It should, but its not. Her eyes are still in shadow and while the golden light makes her hair shine and her skin glow, her actual face is still dark.

"I was playing with them, they come into my territory, as a clear threat and for some stupid reason I decided to play with them. Because of that they hurt you," she says.

Her eyes glaze over slightly and she's not looking at me anymore.

"My territory!" she says in a husky voice. "My place, my home!"

"Buffy?" I ask.

"My territory! They came into my territory," Her lips are pulled back, her teeth clenched together, "They came into my territory and they hurt my-" She breaks off suddenly, leaving the sentence unfinished. Her eyes flicker over to me and in a much quieter voice she mumbles, "They hurt you."

Her body is shaking violently, the tension just pouring out from her in waves, even though she's not saying anything her breathing is harsh and loud, and ...its just not a good thing to hear.

So I do something that later on I will have to decide was very stupid, or very brave.

I reach out slowly and grab her wrist, the one with the tattoo that matches my own. I stroke the back of her hand slowly and softly, not saying anything, not breathing loudly. I then begin tracing the pattern of her tattoo with my fingertips, just following the loops and the whirling patterns and the lines that curve over and around themselves.

Just over and over again and, eventually, her breathing slows down a bit and her muscles begin to relax. Buffy takes a deeeeeeep breath and lets it out slowly. I smile slightly and kiss the back of her hand.

Then absently rubbing her hand with my thumbs I wait for her to say something, she will, when she's ready.

Ready happens to be rather fast. Not a minute has gone by when Buffy says, "Thanks Willow, I really needed that."

I glance up at her and though the morning sun has risen a bit more she's still...shadowed. Darkened. The light should have reached her face a while ago but...it hasn't.

"You're welcome but Buffy who were they?" I ask, I'm still wondering why the light won't reach her face.

She shrugs slightly. "I dunno Will. Which just makes my stupidity more stupid. I had no idea who they were. I know they were human but, I had no idea of their capabilities, what kind of threat they were. I was just so damn confidant that I completely ignored stuff like that. When Giles finds out he's gonna flip."

I have nothing to say to that. A lot has happened that her Watcher is not in the know about; nor any of our friends. Buffy and I have been keeping secrets like gangbusters; the kind that can, y'know, bust gangs. Big secrets and it's not going to be fun telling them. I don't know if we even can.

"I just played with them," Buffy repeats more to herself than to me. "And then they hurt you."

And then I remember. My running across the room trying to flip on the lights, the soldier grabbing me and his hating words. Then pain. Other than that, the pain, all I remember is the...is the...Oh God. The screaming!

"Buffy," I swallow; my stomach has gone all scrunchy with just a dash of acid. "What exactly did you do to them?"

"So you believe it was Agent Gates' actions toward the civilian that caused the HST to go, in your own words, psycho?" Dr. Walsh peers at me steadily over the top of the clipboard, re-reading the notes she has taken during her interview of me. Interview? More like an interrogation. Ah well, who can understand the brass?

"Yes Ma'am," I say promptly. "Based on what little I did see of this HST's capabilities it should have been able to take us down at whenever it wanted too but instead it took its time," I grimace at the truth of my statement. "It was playing with us. Up until Agent Forrest struck the civilian and at that point the HST became very er...serious in its efforts to overcome us." I wince a little as a particularly nasty ache in my shoulder flares up.

"Are you proposing then, Agent, that there is possibly some connection between this HST and the civilian? They are, perhaps allies or even the civilian is not human after all but merely another HST?" Dr. Walsh asks.

"It is a possibility Ma'am." I reply straight faced, still keeping my eyes locked on the wall behind her. The only problem with that is it keeps swimming in and out of focus.

"Interesting," is the only response I get from my superior. "What can you tell me of the HST's appearance Agent Finn?"

"Ma'am, may I inquire into the status of my men first?"

Dr. Walsh arches one eyebrow but gives me a slight nod. "Fair enough," she says. "Travis suffered only the broken leg he received at the hands from his own squad mate. Evans' also was not hurt too badly other than several cracked ribs and broken nose. There are also severe contusions about his back and shoulders. You have taken quite a bit of punishment. The HST tore the muscles in your left shoulder, broke three ribs on your right side. We were actually worried about internal bleeding but it appears that wasn't the case. Your right ankle is sprained and your right eye is swollen shut."

That would explain why I can't see the wall too clearly.

She hasn't mentioned Forrest though. This worries me, the brass is never known to volunteer information but even they don't give half-assed reports 'specially when they know they've left information out. She just wants me to ask, why does brass do that anyhow? Shit. I mean, okay I am not to wonder why I am just to do and die but, Jesus, do they have to make everything such a song and dance?

Alright, alright. I'll ask.

"And Agent Gates Ma'am?" I ask. The wall swims sickeningly.

"Agent Gates, yes," Dr. Walsh murmurs. "He seemed to suffer particular attentions from the HST."

Oh man, Forrest is a bud.

"He's not dead," Dr. Walsh continues. "But every major joint in his upper-body has been hyperextended. That includes his elbows, shoulders and wrists. The HST even wrenched his neck but did not actually break it. We've kept him unconscious until we've had time to effect repairs. He should be fully recovered in a few days though."

"From extreme hyperextension Ma'am?" I can't help myself from asking. I know the Initiative has high level of tech but c'mon, fully recovered in a few days?

"Yes Agent," she says. Shit, when she doesn't even bother to use my name I know I've screwed up. "We have certain technologies not available to the regular community. It should hasten his, and your own recovery, nicely. You, yourself, should be fit for duty in about forty-eight hours. Forrest will, admittedly take a bit longer than that. One week maximum."

"Oh."

"Now Agent Finn," Dr. Walsh continues. "I believe you were going to attempt to give me a description of the HST?"

I try and force the wall into focus. "Yes Ma'am."

"So you didn't kill them?" I can't keep the relief out of my voice. I'm resting with my back to the tree, Buffy perched on the branch next to me. She didn't want to let me go but I insisted, and still do, that I'm fine. Teensy head-face-jaw-neck-and-head ache but fine.

Buffy shakes her head once. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because they were human Will," Buffy replies quickly, her tone flat and even. To my ears it sounds like she's trying to convince herself rather than me. "You know that. I'm not sure why they were here, or where they were from but one thing I am sure of is that they were human."

"So you didn't kill them because they were human?" I ask.

I told Buffy I didn't care, and it's true I don't. My love for her is unconditional but I want to get her to talk about it. Buffy doesn't like talking, I know this and she knows I know. Yet...yet I want her to be comfortable talking to me. About anything, not just safe stuff. Is that selfish of me?

Buffy is still looking at the sun. It has fully risen above the horizon now and warm, pink and gold light spreads across the earth, which is, ulp, about thirty feet down. I encourage my body not to move.

"No," she finally answers. "No, I didn't not kill them because they were human."

A tiny voice in my mind, a voice summed up from everything I know about Buffy, what I think about Buffy and everything I feel about Buffy informs me that that admittance of hers was not easy for her to do.

And it's not who she used to be.

I think I'll be quiet.

The silence is palpable; the air thick with things waking up around us, the birds, the flowers, the world. People are either waking up in greeting to the morning sun, or rolling over and pulling the covers over their heads. I'm in a tree, with a bruised face and a naked girlfriend waiting for her to talk to me.

Ten seconds pass, twenty, thirty, forty, I lose count at forty-four. Should I start over? I could, it would give me something to do I suppose. I look over at Buffy. She's crouched on the branch, her chin resting on her knees staring at the horizon, which still looks like fire. She has just told me that the reason she didn't kill the men who attacked us had nothing to do with them being human. I guess that means that she would have, could have, killed them. She probably hates herself right now. She knows that she could kill. She really, truly knows it and I guess she's punishing herself for that. I can't let her do that, I can't let her hate, or punish herself for just being...Buffy.

I reach out slowly, cramped muscles protesting the entire time and gently brush my fingers through her hair. "I love you," I whisper gently.

I watch the muscles in her back tense up and for a second I'm afraid she'll pull away from me but she doesn't. She hunches her shoulders a bit and then she is still. For a few seconds then a small tremor ripples across her, then another and another. She's crying I think but I can't hear a thing from her, just the shaking of her shoulders.

Buffy turns to me, yes, she's crying. Now the sunlight reaches her face and the tears sparkle in the sun, yet the shadows under her eyes remain. She reaches out to me and I pull her into a hug. She still makes no noise but as I hold her, and now it's my turn to rock her slowly, her shaking eases a bit.

Into my ear she finally whispers, "That's why I didn't kill them."

"Buffy-" I try and start but she pulls away and gently touches my lips, keeping me from speaking.

"I wanted to. I can see it in my head so clearly," she continues. "They hurt you, and something...powerful wanted to break free. It wanted me to destroy them..."

She's quiet for a few seconds. Just breathing.

"Destroy them utterly," Buffy continues. "I think I know this ...thing. It's what's been making the night so comfortable; so attractive. It made the night feel right to me, like I belonged there and was a part of it. I thought it was a beautiful thing but it's not a beautiful thing, it's terrible."

"No," I say around her fingers and reaching to take her hand in my own. "You're wrong."

"How can you say that Will?" she demands. Her eyebrows are narrowing, Buffy doesn't like when people get keep her from hurting herself. "You were there, with the vamps and the blood, how can you not think that me, wanting to kill somebody is not a terrible thing. Or something inside me wanting to kill?"

"Two reason," I reply holding up two fingers. "One, do you remember what I said that night? With the vampires? Do you?"

Buffy looks at the ground far below, turning her face from me. I'm not sure she's going to answer but, "You said you didn't care," she mutters.

"Yes, exactly."

"What's the second reason?" again she looks at me.

"Because you didn't want to kill out of some need for pleasure or because the idea turned you on. It was a...a...primal thing. But its main source was the desire to protect." I place her hand over my heart, and keep it there. She doesn't try and pull away.

"That's what everything about you comes from," I say, keeping my hand over hers. "Your desire to protect. Maybe, depending what you were protecting, the reaction is more or less intense but its protection just the same. I mean, uh, we don't know who they were. What if...uh...what if they were some sort of Colombian drug lords come to do, ooh, who knows what kind of terrible things to us? Huh?" I raise my eyebrows, daring Buffy to disagree with that idea, unlikely as it seems.

Buffy smirks. I cannot believe how much of a relief it is to see that.

"Colombian drug lords in full camo gear with ray guns? That's a bit of a reach isn't it Will?" she says softly.

"Well, I could be more general and just say honking big men with mean looking weapons." I reply defensively. I'd cross my arms and pout but I want her to keep her hand over my heart. "That's beside the point. What if it was still them and the situation was, I dunno how exactly, but different so you only had the choice of killing them or losing ...uh...losing..."

"You," Buffy says. "Losing you. If it was that situation, Will I'd kill them."

"And I'd love you for it," I reply. "I really would because I know you, trust you and love you to do what you have to do but no more, and no less. You protect me."

Still holding her hand in place, I reach up with my free one and lay it gently against her cheek.

"Last night wasn't that kind of situation and you didn't kill them." I continue. "Instead of beating yourself up over what might have happened why not um...give yourself a gold star for not doing it and doing what you did instead."

Buffy shoots me an odd look, half wary, half smiling then she silently mouthes the words, "Gold star?"

"With sparkles," I say nodding.

After a while she shakes her head slowly. "What did I do to deserve you?" she asks...me? Herself?

I answer anyway. "Healthy living," I say in total seriousness.

At that Buffy throws her head back and laughs and this time all the morning light covers her face chasing away the shadows.

Buffy finally pulls her hand free from mine, turns and nestles against me, being mindful of my injuries and we sit like that for some time, just being there.

"I love you," Buffy says after a few seconds of silence.

"And I love you," I reply kissing the top of her head.

A few more minutes of contented silence are enjoyed.

And then, "Come on, we're going to my mothers."

"Your Mom's Buffy? But, but what about clothes n'stuff? I mean you want to walk across town...uhm..."

"Naked?" Buffy grins at me. "It's too early on a Saturday, love. We'll be okay." Her tone turns serious. "We can't go back to the dorm Willow, we have no idea of this new threat. I'm not taking any chances."

"Uh...okay Buffy," I shrug helplessly. If she thinks she can sneak across Sunnydale without clothes, who am I to stop her. Buffy usually does anything she puts her mind too but at what point, before now, did Buffy put her mind to something like this?

"We have established the probable identity of the civilian who rendered assistance to HST last night," Dr. Walsh tells me. "According to the school records the room you were in is registered to one 'Willow Rosenberg' and her roommate 'Elizabeth Anne Summers'."

"Summers and...Rosenberg?" I repeat the names, feeling them roll around in my head. "Those names are familiar Ma'am."

"As well they should be Agent Finn, both these young ladies are in my introduction to Psychology class," Dr. Walsh replies. "One of the ones where you assist I believe."

"Yes Ma'am. I remember now," I say, nodding. "The redhead and the blonde, fourth row from the front."

"Do you have any idea which one was in the room last night?" Dr. Walsh asks me, still staring at that damn bored. Part of me wants to break it.

"I'm pretty sure it was Ms Rosenberg Ma'am. She has shorter hair than Ms Summers and, while I never got a good look at the civilian's face, I'm positive it was the same length as Ms Rosenberg's."

"Very good Agent Finn," Dr. Walsh says. "Here are your orders then."

"Ma'am." I try and straighten up even more. "With all due respect..."

Dr. Walsh scowls, she doesn't like being interrupted. "Yes, Agent Finn?"

"Ma'am I'd like permission to go topside and arrest Willow Rosenberg for possible collusion with the enemy," I look my superior in the eye. I want to do this; I want to get this thing that put me here. "If she is some sort of ally we can get any and all information from her that we need through interrogation."

"Is that all Agent Finn?" Dr. Walsh replies coolly. One of her fingers is tapping on the corner of the clipboard impatiently. Not a good sign.

"Yes Ma'am," I reply.

Dr. Walsh sighs deeply. "Under normal circumstances, Agent Finn, your request would be given the go-ahead, however these are not normal circumstances."

What? I let my confusion be known. "Ma'am?"

"Two reasons Agent Finn, One," Dr. Walsh, looking at me again, holds up one finger. "Behavioral science doesn't know what to make of this new HST," she continues. "Clearly it is fast, strong and deadly. As you yourself have said, and the reports of your squad mates that we have concur with this assessment." Dr. Walsh pauses and her eyes lose their focus.

"What makes it doubly dangerous, Riley," she's become distracted enough she used my given name. "Is that it clearly demonstrated advanced combat and tactical behavior. Most HST's we know of essentially charge into combat but this one, this one was different."

Again Dr. Walsh pauses.

Did she just lick her lips?

"It used your men against each other," she continues. "Dodging out of the way of Evan's blow and so forth."

"Yes Ma'am," I reply again focusing on the far wall. "What does this have to do with my being denied permission to acquire Ms Rosenberg for questioning though?"

Dr. Walsh's eyes snap into focus and she stares right at me. I can't help it when my eyes flicker from the neutral place on the wall to meet hers. I want to look away, I really want to but I can't. She won't let me.

"We want this one alive, Agent." Dr. Walsh says fiercely. "We want it alive very, very much. You do not need to know the whys do you soldier?"

"No Ma'am!" I reply fiercely.

"And you are prepared to carry out your orders to the letter?" Dr Walsh points at me. Daring me to challenge her, I know this look, drill sergeants carry the same look but no Drill sergeant I ever met had a look as scary as Dr. Walsh's.

"Yes Ma'am!" I practically shout.

"Very well then," Dr. Walsh says calmly. Her blazing eyes now, calm, cool, relaxed, normal everyday eyes. She glances again at her clipboard. "Here are your orders, Agent Finn."

"Uh...Ma'am?" I am hesitant to interrupt my commanding officer yet again but...

"Yes Agent?" Dr. Walsh snaps, back to using just the term agent. I really have to learn to shut up or I'll be on KP duty for the rest of my career.

"You...said...there were two reasons Ma'am?" I hope she doesn't take this personally.

"I would think that would be obvious Agent," Dr. Walsh says back to me. "The reason we do not wish to risk going in with force is that this unknown HST has already destroyed, single handedly and without any apparent effort on its part, our most able and skilled assault force." She pauses and I it takes all my willpower to keep looking at the same spot on the wall, not to lock eyes with her.

"You are the best aren't you Agent Finn?" Dr. Walsh asks.

"Ma'am, Yes Ma'am." I reply automatically.

"And you command Alpha Squad don't you Agent Finn?" Dr. Walsh asks.

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am." I say fiercely.

"And is Alpha Squad the best we have?" I know where this is going but I have no choice to play along.

"Ma'am, yes it is Ma'am!"

"And how long did it take for this HST to destroy Alpha Squad, the best squad the Initiative has, commanded by Agent Riley Finn, the best agent the Initiative has?" Dr. Walsh asks me calmly, she's tearing me apart and using the same tone of voice she would if asking about the weather.

"Ma'am, just over ten seconds Ma'am!" I shout out that last part. I don't think Dr. Walsh notices. The wall Finn, look at the wall, stay focused on the wall.

"Are you ready for your orders Agent Finn?" Dr. Walsh asks.

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am!" The wall, the wall, the wall, look at the wall boy and you better get real good at it!

"You are to become aquatinted either with Ms Rosenberg, or Ms Summers. Preferably both. Once this is accomplished you are to turn your considerable charms upon one or the other to get access to their life. Any information that is then shared with you, any at all, not just anything regarding possible HST contact, is to be reported to me, personally. Is that understood?"

Dr. Walsh short speech is said in a clinical, cold, precise manner which almost makes me burst out laughing, what she's said in the manner she says it. I don't burst out laughing of course; I'm a well trained soldier.

"Uh...excuse me Ma'am?" The words slip out against my will.

Dr. Walsh finally looks directly at me and now, with a perfect sense of timing, the room stops swimming and snaps into crystal clear focus. Ironically enough she's smiling at me, slightly. "You are to seduce one of them Riley," she says not unkindly. "Or both of them if you think you're up to it."

This is so unfair! I don't want to do some stupid kind of undercover work; this thing took me and mine out neat as you please. I want to find it, track it down.

Damnit! I was trained to be a hunter not some god damned James Bond!

"What you learn from that ...mmm..." Dr. Walsh pauses. "Interaction is to be handed over to me. Now do you understand?"

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am." I reply automatically. It takes some doing but I manage not to clench my teeth while responding. Not that she'd care either way.

"Good," she nods and resumes looking back at her clipboard. What's on that thing anyway?

Dr. Walsh stands up, "Get some rest Agent. You have a lot of work to do."

"Yes, Ma'am." I nod, I almost, but not quite salute. "I'll get on it this Sunday."

Dr. Walsh, without a backwards glance walks across the room and out the door.

I sigh heavily, wincing at the stitch that causes in my side.

The door swings open and Dr. Walsh pokes her head in. "I almost forgot Riley; there's a stack of papers that need to be graded for Monday's classes. Just because you're in bed doesn't mean you can't do paperwork. They're on the table beside you. Hop to it."

"Yes Ma'am." I say again. She nods again and the door swings shut.

I ignore the papers on the table beside me, they're not important. What's important is finding the thing that put me here.

Fine, if that's the way the brass wants it, that's the way I'll get it done. One thing's for sure though, once we get the thing that put me and mine here I'm going to find some way to thank it, personally.

So, I have to become all 'friendly' with these two girls eh? Probably just some giggly Californian schoolgirls. What do they know of the real world? Not much, heck, if it weren't for projects like the Initiative they'd probably wind up some HST's main course.

I'll see them on Monday, after class. Home town Riley never could do no harm. I'll have to think about it a bit. Better get some info first.

I reach over to the intercom and flip the switch. "Yeah, this is Agent Finn in medical; I need the files on two students also residents in Sunnydale. Names are: Summers, Elizabeth and Rosenberg, Willow. I need that stuff in under thirty minutes guys, so hop to it."

"Yessir," the intercom blares back. "We'll have it to you in thirty."

"See that you do," I flick the intercom off. What to do until then?

I eye the papers on the table, and, with a sigh grab the one at the top.

Getting out of the Initiative is easy. Just say the guards' first names, wave to them and they let me walk right on by without a glance nor a worry. It was a bit trickier getting in but that wasn't my problem in the first place.

The sun is well above the horizon by the time I make it to the center of Sunnydale. Some of the shops are open and my window isn't due for an hour or so. I spend the time in a bookstore. I browse through some of the more popular fiction and decide on a paperback reprint of a thriller that came out a few months ago. I find it very amusing to read horror stories and thrillers now, considering I know what's really going on.

Afterwards I sit at the local coffee shop, I think it's called the Mocha Pump, or Mocha Lump maybe. I order a muffin, some coffee and I eat my breakfast while flipping through the pages of the book. This takes up the rest of the time before my window arrives. Finally, time to go to work.

I walk briskly across the street, waving to an oncoming car that slows down to give me time to pass, and enter the phone booth. I don't need a quarter for this call. I punch in a long string of numbers that are not actually a number but rather words; words that spell out are an incantation. We don't use just modern technology alone for our security.

The tone rings seven times exactly and then I'm disconnected. With the dial tone buzzing in my ear I say clearly, "It's me. Tell the council, the Slayers gone feral."

Then I hang up, exit the phone booth. I check my watch; yes I do have time for another muffin before my first class.

END-Third Lesson


	4. Fourth Lesson

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr...arrgh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

Dianna Wears Red

Fourth Lesson

Getting across the town to her mothers isn't as diffilcult as I thought it would be. Since it's early morning, on a Saturday, the streets are pretty much deserted. At first I try to insist that I can keep up with her, cause, I thought she was going to walk there. I must have still not been thinking clearly. Within a few minutes I'm gasping for oxygen and barely keeping up, without a break in her step Buffy scoops me up in her arms and really begins running!

This is, I dunno, the third time she's carried me somewhere in the last few days?

I remember when I was younger and I'd play piggyback with Xander, he'd be running around and it was really hard to stay on him, his whole body would shake with every step he would take and I had to hold on tight or I'd fall off. More than once I did. My mother would always complain about it when I got grass stains on the butt of my pants.

There's nothing like that when Buffy carries me. For one thing I'm cradled in her arms like an infant, so there's no effort on my part to say ...um...on board. The green whips by us so fast that it blurs. I can't actually make out the details the bushes we're passing, in fact I don't even notice we leave the more urban parts of the town behind us and enter deep into the woods.

The solid green all around us is still a blur and I find it kind of soothing to watch it all just fly past us. Kinda makes me a bit sleepy. Like looking out a car window at the passing scenery and your eyes get heavier and heavier.

It's right about then my eyes close and I just relax. I don't hear anything, not a rustle or a whisper of sound as Buffy runs. There's no sound of snapping twigs or branches and leaves being brushed aside, I...I ...I can't even hear the sound of her footsteps or hear them. So quiet, so soothing, I'm still kinda tired and her arms are so warm and comforcounter I think I could probably just fall asleep right-

"Hey," a whisper in my ear. "You awake there Will?"

"Huh? Wha...?" My own voice sounds kinda far away.

"You okay hon?" Her voice still whispers in my ear. I love it when Buffy uses endearments. Don't happen often but when it does I can just know the feelings behind them.

"Yeah...sure...I'm okay, I'm up," I feel the warmth of her arms still holding me. "Well, I'm awake but since you've still got me it could be argued that I am not technically upright."

I look around, cause I want to figure out where we are exactly. It doesn't take me very long. The first thing I see tells me where Buffy brought us; its the big, crooked, old tree that she used to climb up and down to sneak out of her room at night. I, myself, more than once climbed it sneaking into Buffy's room, or out of it.

Okay, usually she helped me. Excuse me, tree climbing is not my forte.

With a soft chuckle Buffy sets me down on my feet, I note her arm around my shoulder doesn't move, maybe just in case I get a little dizzy. That's so sweet a teensy bit annoying sometimes but, hey, she cares.

"I'm okay Buffy," I say. "I can stand up-whoa!"

Her arms instantly help me back up after my knees buckle. I reach out blindly for some support as the world swims a bit and it lands on something soft and supple and...

"Hmmm," I hear Buffy purr. "If I'd known, Willow I'd have carried us to a hotel instead of my house."

My eyes shoot open and I yank my hand away from her breast like it was scalding. "OhjeezeI'msorryitwasanaccidentreally..."

Still supporting me with one arm she shushes my softly with the barest touch of her lips to mine. Pulling away, I see she's smiling brightly.

"Never be sorry," Buffy says still whispering, or more like a soft muttering. "I stopped caring about things like that a long time ago. I am yours and whatever you want, anything at all, is okay."

I almost start hyperventilating. This is Buffy after all, and, love her lots, but she's not the most open person in the world. Yeah, she's opened up to me in more ways than most...

Against my will my mind springs back to how this night began and how she...er...opened up and I can feel my face heating up.

"Ohhhh," Buffy snickers, her eyes shining. "Is my girlfriend blushing?"

This is so not fun, I mean, okay the whole gay thing is kind new to the both of us but its been...what...a month now? I should be able to talk about it with a little more comfort, much less thing about it.

"You really mean that?" I answer her question with one of my own. "Anything?"

A swift, sharp, positive nod of ascent is her answer. "Absolutly."

I find my feet endlessly fascinating. Hey, look at that I forgot my shoes.

"You, you mean that?" I ask, still staring at my feet. I wiggle my toes a bit and watch them curl around and under. Don't think Mom can complain about grass stains in my feet, I'll wash em' off myself.

This...this isn't totally the Buffy I know. I don't mind it, Buffy always was so sure of herself but if you actually knew her, knew her past the outside you'd know she was really nervous and scared. She could get scared like everybody else, except she also had the fear of having to deal with nightmares, the fear of myabe being a nightmare and she wasn't even allowed to show it.

This is different. Her...her...she's...um. She's just so...everything around her, about her, is now...just...well, she's sure of herself. Like she always has been but...uh...it goes through her. Completly. She looks positive and confidant and its not a show anymore. Its the real deal. If I wasn't already I'd be in love!

I am suddenly aware how badly I want to take a shower. I raise my eyes and see Buffy. Still Buffy but naked, glorious Buffy with the rising sun behind her, the peach glow of light caught in her hair. I want to take a shower, but not alone.

She steps forward and pulls me into her arms, being careful not to jostle me, oh yeah, my face. I'd forgotten about that, it doesn't even hurt anymore.

Ow, okay it didn't until I thought of it.

"Everything," Buffy whispers in my ear. Her breath blows a few strands of my hair across the top of my ear. Her hands slide between the folds of the robe I've been wearing since my shower so I can feel her skin on my own.

Oh, oh gosh, her hands...they're so hot...so hot...

'Cold shower,' my mind chants like a mantra. 'Must have cold shower.'

Again Buffy slowly pulls away.

"C'mon, I want to take a shower," she says with a smile.

I wake up slowly and begin to stretch. An uncomfortable stitch in my side reminds me to be careful so I stop stretching. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get to my feet trying to stifle a yawn.

The fluorescent lights were burning all night and I didn't sleep well. How am I supposed to heal if I can't get any sleep? Still, I'm feeling a lot better and its only been about eight hours since I got my ass handed to me.

The reminder of that makes makes my heart pound in my chest. I dunno why exactly, it could be part of my training, or maybe I was just born with it but no matter what happens, what I feel, a part of myself remains distant and just analyses everything.

Right now it's trying to figure out whether my heart is beating so loudly because I came this close to dying last night, or is it because I'm angry that I got beaten so easily. That my men and I got beaten aside like we were nothing.

We're the best here and whatever that thing was took us apart like we were nothing.

I sit back down on the bed and try and go over the events last night, to reconstruct the situation in my head and take it apart, look for things I could have done better, that we, as a unit could have done to have given us a chance for coming out of that winners, not waking up in various parts of the Initiative Medical Wing.

No matter how hard I try to remember it, to understand what went wrong and why the more I remember harvesting time with my dad. He had this big old tractor and it took a lot of work, back breaking work that would last for the better part of a week, to get in all the grain. Then one day Dad went out and bought a new combine Harvester. It was a gigantic machine. Tall, green, with a huge maw in the front and, what seemed like to me at the time, a thousand curved, rotating teeth. In that thing Dad, by himself, did in a weekend what it took him and me, and the rest of my bro's, a week. Except in this machine he sat on his ass the entire time, letting the machine chew up, sort out and spit the grain to the wagon in the back.

Don't need my psych studies to figure out that analogy.

Okay, so the these HST's got themselves a combine harvester. Well, me and my men aren't grain just going to stand around. They upgraded, we upgrade in turn.

I fluff up my pillow a few times, lean it against the wall and try and make myself comfy. I grab the files I was given on Elizabeth Summers and Willow Rosenberg and begin to read them.

For the fiftieth time.

At Buffy's insistence I take two aspirin with my orange juice.

I sit on stool, in Buffy's kitchen dressed in a white, fluffy bathrobe, staring at the two white pills in the palm of my hand. I hate taking aspirin, or any pills for that matter. I can never swallow them without feeling like I just tried to eat a bowling ball. Chewing them is out, so bitter I gag so...

Buffy, also wearing a bathrobe identical to mine, is on the phone talking to Giles; we agreed to call him after we got out of the shower.

"Yes, I know what time it is Giles," Buffy says into the phone. "But you're the one who-"

Her voice cuts off, Giles must have interrupted her.

"Yes, it is very nice of you to stay up very late researching," Buffy replies. "Even though no one asked, yes Giles. Self improvement...grand. Look, you're the one who told me to call if anything strange happened."

Buffy rolls her eyes a bit, listening to Giles reaction. "That's right, Giles. That's what I've been trying to fit in edgewise for the last, well in all honesty, ten seconds but something strange did happen."

Buffy grunts slightly, interrupted by Giles again. She smiles at me and shakes her head back and forth mouthing 'blah blah blah'.

"If you let me tell you, you can find out." Buffy says. "Okay, Willow and I were attacked last night- No! NO! Giles let me finish this time. We're both fine, yeah everything's okay. Uh-huh, we're at my mothers. I want you to call a meeting. Make sure everybody's there. When?" Buffy glances at the clock hanging on the wall.

"Eleven sound good?" Buffy says. " Willow and I need some breakfast after all. Okay then, eleven,"

Buffy's about to hang up the phone when she yanks it back to her ear. "What? What? I didn't catch that Giles." She's silent a moment.

"No, no I don't think research here would help, Giles." Buffy says. "Not unless you've got back copies of 'Soldier of Fortune' Magazine anywhere. Trust me, I'll explain later."

Another short pause. "I said I'll explain later. Right, okay, bye." This time she does hang up the phone.

I'm still starting at the two little pills in my hand, not happy about them one bit.

"Okay," I grumble while swallowing the pills with a chug of orange juice. "But only because you asked so nicely."

"Willow," Buffy replies, now elbow deep in the fridge, what is she looking for anyway? "I blew in your ear and nibbled at your collarbone."

"Yes, my point exactly," I finish off my orange juice and set the glass on the counter. "More juice please."

"Hey," Buffy says from the depths of the frige. "I'm busy here, get it yourself."

"Have I ever told you that its my fantasy to be waited on hand and foot by a slim blonde dressed in a french maids outfit?" I ask resting my elbows on the counter top. "That she can stake vamps and has super powered is a major plus."

Buffy just peeks over her shoulder at me. "You mention anything about black latex and you can make your own breakfast," she turns back to digging through the fridge muttering. I think she says something about the detrimental effects of too much Xander on innocent jewish redheads, but I could be wrong.

And that is how Mrs. Summers finds us. Buffy digging through the fridge, myself seated at the counter in the center of the kitchen, both dressed in our fuzzy white bathrobes and our hair still wet.

Okay, 'finds us' is too understated. In truth she comes into the kitchen, her hair all mussed, blinking sleep out of her eyes and her hands locked around the handle of an wooden baseball bat.

She sorta comes charging in as well.

"Get out of my kitchen you demons!" she screams and then stops dead in her tracks.

Buffy spins around, one hand holding a glass pitcher of milk, the other a plateful of tastefully sliced oranges, apples and tomatoes. All covered carefully with saran wrap.

"Gosh Mom," Buffy says. "I know college tuition is expensive but I never quite expected to be labeled as a 'demon'."

"Hi Mrs. Summers," I say with a little wave.

"Buffy?" Mrs. Summers seems a little confused. She's standing there in her nightgown, baseball bat high over her head and her eyebrows are narrowing in confusion. So that's where Buffy got her little scrunchy confused look! It looks so cute on her and I really love it when...breath Rosenberg, breath!

Carefully Mrs. Summers leans the baseball bat against the wall. "I...what are you doing here honey? I thought I woke up, heard the shower and..." Her voice dies away as she shrugs helplessly.

"And you thought demons had invaded your household intent on corrupting the lovely decor of your bathroom? Maybe use all the hot water?" Buffy asks with a smirk. "Wow, those demons truly have some twisted ideas on evil. Have some sliced fruit Mom."

"Hi Mrs. Summers!" I say again. I wave a second time.

She glances at me, "Hello Willow how-" she gasps. "My God Willow, what happened to you! Your face, you poor dear are you alright? Who did this to you? Buffy how could you let this happen! What on earth were you two doing?"

These questions are rapid fired at us like a machine gun.

Mrs. Summers comes, practically running, around the counter to gently turn my head to one side and examine the damage. I got a good look at myself in the mirror when we were taking the showers.(Separately, darn it.) I don't look too bad. My jaw line is a little puffy and there's a yellowing bruise underneath my eye running down to end just below my chin.

She examines my face silently and then turns and aims a baleful glare at her daughter.

She doesn't say anything, Mrs. Summers I mean. Just stares silently at Buffy who is having a hard time meeting her mom's glare. She tries to and ...and...if you didn't know her, if I didn't know Buffy I'd miss it. But I don't; I watch as the ...whatever it is...sorta...goes away? The confidence inside, the one that allowed her to laugh at the men attacking us, that let her feel perfectly comfortable kissing me in public, run across the town naked, it...fades. Buffy still doesn't look away but the...presence, her own, it's lessened. The corners of lips begin to flicker. To twitch, a little up, like she's about to smile than flicker downward and I can tell, I know her well enough to...er...know that they'll keep going down and down and...uh...she'll probably start crying and blaming herself and I don't want to have to hammer through her head again it wasn't her fault and all that other junk.

Sure, those talks about how I want to help her and how I like being with her, and how those feelings increased to where I not only love helping but also love her, those are always deep, meaningful conversations and usually do a good job of preventing Buffy for placing, yet again, everything on her shoulders. But, I mean, I can only do it so often, they get kinda ...I guess...monotonous.

"I'm okay, really Mrs. Summers," I say, interrupting the stare down. "There was a little bit of action last night and I zigged when I should have zagged, that's all. Buffy took care of em' though. Didn't you Buffy?"

"Kinda," Buffy says weakly. Turning she sets the milk and fruit on the countertop. She glances at me and I can see the guilt on her face, plane as day. I have her eye contact for only an instant and in that time I wink at her slowly and purse my lips, just a fraction.

It works, Buffy ...twitching lips...twitching lips? She stops looking so nervous and...well, still a little guilty but better.

She sits herself down the stool next to mine and her arms curls around my waist, that's a little obvious being right in front of her mother.

"Uh...ma," Buffy begins. I don't like the hesitation in her voice. "Mom, there's...mmm...somthing you should know."

"Yeah," I pipe up, I try to subtly get out of Buffy's embrace, not that I don't like it but its kinda ...tactless? "There's some new players in these Hellmouth games. Fun, fun, fun."

"S'true," Buffy nods. Slowly she turns her head to look me right in the eyes. "But that's not the only thing."

"What?" the words burst out before I can stop them. "Hold up, whoa Buffy, I'm not sure thats-"

"Will, I'm tired though," Buffy interrupts me.

"Sure you are, being up all night, night work, college studies and that kind of stuff. I can understand." I reply quickly. I'm trying not to shout, or squeak, or panic, I'm trying to keep my voice neutral, flat, totally normal, a little bored. A 'Ha-ha, nothing happening here officer.' kind of voice.

The way Mrs. Summers eyes are narrowing tells me its not working.

"Uh..." she tries to get a word in edgewise.

"Not that kind of tired," Buffy answers me. "Tired of secrets, tired of ...holding things. Tired of being scared. I want to tell."

"But...Buffy...I mean..." I stutter. "Your mother?"

"Well," Buffy pauses. "Yeah, I mean, she's Mom y'know. Absolute love and acceptance an' all that?"

"Well, not always." Mrs. Summers murmurs more to herself. Is she thinking of Angelus?

"I wasn't 'always' loving when I found out about your...calling Buffy." Mrs. Summers says bitterly.

"Yes always!" Buffy rounds on her mother. "Okay, so you freaked. Understandable. I didn't do too hot either. I don't blame, you don't blame. Fair enough Mom?"

Mrs. Summers leans forward; putting her elbows on the countertop and rests her chin on one fist. She's quiet, her eyes flickering from me, to Buffy, back to me, and then slowly, her eyes begin to lower. They're heading toward where Buffy has her arm around my waist. I'm tempted to just pull away from Buffy completely but...but... I can't.

I close my eyes in resignation and await the end of the world.

"Is that all?" I hear Mrs. Summers say quietly.

Funny, I didn't think the end of the world would sound quite like that.

I peek open my eyes and, yes, Mrs. Summers is staring at where Buffy is holding me close. She's looking exactly at Buffy's arm, wrapped possessively around my waist. I've seen us like this in the mirror back at the dorm. There's nothing platonic about how Buffy's holding me. Mrs. Summers doesn't seem to be too upset though.

"You're...you're not upset Mrs. Summers?" I squeak quietly.

"Of course not Willow, why would I be? Its perfectly normal." Mrs. Summers says looking up at me.

Huh? What?

This is unexpected.

"Normal?" Buffy asks the question out loud that I'm still trying to wrap my mind around.

"Well, you two have always been so very close so I kinda figured something like this was inevitable, what with College being so intoxicating with freedoms." Mrs. Summers shrugs slightly in a dismissive gesture.

"Mom," Buffy begins slowly. "And I don't want any stories told about your college lifestyle when you answer this question but, you're saying that what me and Willow are doing is perfectly acceptable to you?"

Mrs. Summers turns away from us, reaching for the carton of orange juice. "Well, I wouldn't have done it Buffy, but if that's what you and Willow want what business is it of mine?"

"Wow Buffy," I gasp. "Your mother is so cool! If I tried to tell my mom that I was now lovers with my best friend she'd do cartwheels."

"I'm sorry, did you say lovers?" Mrs. Summers spins around to face us.

Oh.

Shit!

I toss the files back onto the bedside counter. They don't tell me anything more this time then they did the first forty-nine times I read them still, at least I have committed to memory what little we do have.

Names of family members, addresses, phone numbers, grades, criminal records, medical records.

Its in the last two that Elizabeth Summers is definitely more interesting.

The reports indicate that she was expelled from her high school in LA for burning down the gymnasium, and suspected of murder twice; the second one being the deputy mayor of Sunnydale. But...nothing came of any of the investigations.

Medically speaking Ms Summers has had quite a career as well. Just last fall being hospitalized for blood loss after being attacked by a 'wild animal'. I've never quite understood how an entire town can buy that excuse so often? Are these people willingly blind? Then she checks herself out and again her school explodes.

Course this time she had nothing to do with it, or so the files say.

It's not a whole lot but it's not nothing either. I sit back and think about it, I let the facts just flow in and out of my head. Names, places, faces of the people these two girls know, dates, times...all this information just flitters through my head and I don't try to sort it out. Just let it go where it will.

Maybe I won't come up with anything now, no conclusions or hunches or even for a few days but, and particularly when I get additional information, sooner or later, if this whole 'spy' plan of Dr. Walsh's works out who knows?

Again I stand up and do a few experimental knee bends. There's some grumbling but for the most part I seem to be on the mend. Jeeze, the doc was right, I'm healing real fast. Gotta love modern technology.

Its when I try to walk I have a little problem. A shooting pain lances up my right side and I have to lean against a wall for a few seconds to wait for it to fade. After a time I feel relatively okay and try again.

Cool, was just a cramp of some sort.

Going to the locker I toss the medical gown, God I hate these things, in the trash and slip into my fatigues.

First things first. Shower, shave, breakfast then check up on my men.

Normally my men would be top priority but I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday and it wouldn't do me any good to keel over on my face.

Hot water, man, now that is satisfaction. Yeah, feeling one hundred and ten percent better now. Just give me a few more days, get some training in. I'll show Dr. Walsh that I'm back for active duty. Not undercover crap, but real, active, combat ready duty.

I sit down in the Initiative Mess hall with a steaming plate of...of...well, I'm not actually sure what I'm eating here. They call it scrambled eggs and bacon but...

It figures, a multi-billion dollar subterranean laboratory and military force. Armed with the latest in modern and experimental technology and they still can't make decent eggs. What the hell, food is food.

"Hey Riley!"

Oh no. Freeman.

He sits down across from me. We've never gotten along. He and I jockeyed for command of Alpha Squad. I won, he didn't.

"Heard you got pounded last night, you okay?" he asks me not too unkindly.

"Yeah," I nod still staring at me...eggs? "My men on the other hand, they got a bit roughed up. Forrest is not in good shape."

"Aw," Freeman makes a dismissive gesture. "He'll be fine. Doc takes care of us real good y'know?"

"I know." I nod again. "Could barely move last night when I woke up and now..." I shrug. "Here I am."

"Here you are." He agrees. "Just in time for breakfast too," Freeman shakes his head slightly, "You poor bastard."

I can't help it, I chuckle. I don't get it though. Why is he being so nice to me? When I got the promotion to head Alpha Squad he did everything but swear eternal vengeance.

"Well, I gotta get goin'." Freeman says standing up. "Gotta check out my command."

"What squad?" I ask innocently.

He pauses. This does not bode well. "Uh...Riley..." He says slowly. "Didn't they tell you?"

The fork in my left hand caves under my grip. "Tell. Me. What?" Alright, at this point I already know, I can tell but...I have to hear it myself.

"I've been assigned to command Alpha Squad." Freeman is trying to be conciliatory, I can tell. I can hear his smile, his smug attitude and condescending demeanor. Oh, it doesn't show but I can tell. " Word is they got some spec op job for you." He finishes. "Not because of anything you did, or didn't do last night, y'know something very hush-hush. Least so I heard."

"Is that so?" I say slowly. "Is that the word?" The part of my mind that never gets touched by my feelings absently informs me the metal of the fork has cut into the palm of my hand and I'm bleeding."

"Yeah," Freeman says. "Yeah it is. You got any problems with it, take it up with command Riley."

His tone is arrogant now, defensive. He's worried I might try and start something, but I won't. Not that I couldn't and win. Freeman never could hold a candle to me in hand to hand, okay...I'll admit he's a better shot than I am. Right now though, there are no guns. If I wanted to I could take him apart. I know I could.

I know it!

"No," I say with a small smile, I'm betting he finds in unerving; that's the point. "No real problems. I will inquire of course on the details of my new assignment but I have no real 'problems' with it, Freeman."

"Oh." He says. I notice he lets out his breath, was he holding it? Stress levels Freeman, have to watch your stress levels. "Don't worry Riley, I'll take good care of em'."

"I'm sure you will." I reply. He nods at me in farewell and leaves without another word.

Sure he'll get them all killed. I wouldn't lose much sleep if Freeman wound up HST-bait but these men are mine, my men!

If Walsh has gone so far as to replace my command than that means there's little chance I can get her to cancel this 'undercover' op of hers.

Fine then. Right, I'll report to her, find out exactly what she wants me to do, get it done and get my men back before they wind up dead thanks to incompetent boy here.

Right after I finish my breakfast.

"Did she say lovers, Buffy?" Mrs. Summers asks again. She's putting all her weight on her hands that are flat on the counter top. She's leaning forward in an aggressive 'this is not at all funny' kind of way.

"Yeah Mom, she did," Buffy says, standing up. Just like that New Buffy's back! Her voice, like...just a solid ringing ...tone. There's no clue anywhere that she's actually nervous or this is some fake thing. Buffy's not scared of her mother at all, or this situation. I can tell.

Buffy has her arms crossed over her chest now, back straight, her stare just as solid and, wow...even more intimidating than Mrs. Summers's own. "And she's right."

Mrs. Summers stare switches to me and I can, in no way, meet it in intensity, hell, I couldn't even meet my own mothers and she's hardly ever there!

Buffy silently steps up behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders.

"Willow," Mrs. Summers says quietly. "Are you in a relationship with my daughter?"

The words are quiet, but so is the sound of a sword being drawn from a sheath, or a gun being cocked so I take no comfort in Mrs. Summers level of volume.

That doesn't mean I like the way she asked the question, like I'm the one involved with Buffy, like somehow I caused it and she's just along for the ride.

"No, Mrs. Summers," I say, I don't think my voice is shaking. Behind me I feel Buffy start and her hands on my shoulders tighen just for a fraction of a second. "We're engaged in a relationship with each other." I look Mrs. Summers dead in the eye when I say that too!

Buffy's hands relax.

"A romantic relationship," I add. "A lovers relationship, a full blown I love her and will keep doing so until the day I die," I purse my lips and look as if I'm thinking deep thoughts. "May that be a long, long way off I wouldn't mind never actually, same for Buffy." As I speak I feel more and more confidant, and I think, I THINK I'm beginning to get a little louder.

"Its full and rich and sweet and its everything in a relationship you'd think it is Mrs. Summers. It's a sexual relationship," I say, drawing out the 'S' like a hiss.

"A real deal, hot n'spicy, rootin' tootin' frolickin' through the fields of daisys hand in hand with blues skies and warm sunshine kind of thing!" I stand up slowly and step closer to the counter edge, Buffy's hands fall away from my shoulders and its okay though. Her support is nice n'everything but...

Pause.

Deep breath.

"It's a having picnics by a river thing," I continue. "A moonlight walk thing, a going to the movies and kissing in the back row thing," Now I'm pointing my finger at Buffy's mother with every word and waving it about with a real sense of authority, and there is one, cause I mean what I'm saying. I mean it to the bottom of myself.

"Its a cuddling up together on cold nights kind of thing and all those other aspects of love and...and... all the togetherness things you can think of and we like it JUST FINE!" I finish on a high note and now I'm the one leaning my hands on the countertop, staring Mrs. Summers right in the eye.

I'm a little out of breath too.

Mrs. Summers is quiet for a few seconds then she looks away from me and sits down slowly on one of the stools. "Oh," she says.

"Wow!" Buffy adds a few seconds later.

It is when I've fully caught my breath that I realize what exactly I've done: Namely bitched out Buffy's mother. All the blood rushes to my head and I want, more than anything else, to bolt from the room and hide under a bed. Any bed will do, I'm not picky!

That or prostrate myself on the floor and beg for Mrs. Summers forgiveness. I can't believe I did that, I'm so ashamed, I mean, this is Mrs. Summers! She was...she is...more of a mother figure to me than my own parents! And I just yelled at her, I just screamed at her and...and...questioned her authority and was mean and awful and not very nice at all and that was such a very unice thing to do and that must mean I'm a terrible person, and Buffy is going to be upset with me for hurting her mother and she'll leave me and everyone will avoid me, cause, they'll all know I'm the terrible person that was mean to Buffy Summers' mom!

Buffy embraces me from behind. "That was awesome!" she giggles into my ear.

Or not.

"It...it was?" I mumble.

Behind me I feel, rather than see, Buffy's nod.

And we're silent again.

"Buffy," Mrs. Summers says. "Are you sure?"

"Oh God Mom, did you see Willow?" Buffy exclaims, right in my ear. I try not to wince. "I'm positive, I'm sure, very sure. Surely sure in my sureness. On the one hand because I feel the exact same way."

Buffy pauses again. "On the other hand I'm also sure because I wouldn't to have that kind of Willow unleashed on me."

With her arms still around me she shrugs. "I'm the slayer, Mom, not immortal."

I reach back with my right hand and caress her cheeks. "You fear the Willow?" I ask playfully.

"Who wouldn't?" Buffy answers. I can feel her attention shift from me to her mother who's still sitting kinda slumped over the counter.

"Mom," she asks hesitantly. "You okay?

"I'm..." Mrs. Summers starts. "I'm just worried honey," she says finally. "Worried about what with everything you have to deal with, the Slaying and the...I still can't believe I say these words seriously, vampires and demons; now this. The world doesn't know what you do Buffy, but they'll find out about this and... I'm just worried for you honey."

"But you still love me?" Buffy asks. Her voice doesn't tell you, if you don't know what to listen for, but at that moment I know she's incredibly vulnerable. Hell, that question itself screams vulnerability.

Mrs. Summers laughs quietly, and reaches across the counter. She takes one of Buffy's hands, even though Buffy is still embracing me from behind, in her own. "Yes Buffy, I still love you. As you said unconditionally."

"Er...and me Mrs. Summers?" I ask, its hard to talk to someone when you're busy studying, for the second time that day, your toes. Only this time they're nowhere near as interesting. Watching toes curl on linoleum just isn't the same. "Are...are we okay? I didn't mean to yell at you it...er...just..." I shrug.

I can't see Mrs. Summers but then touches my chin with her fingertips and lifts my face so I'm looking at her. She smiles softly and nods. "Yes Willow, we're absolutely okay. I probably deserved it actually. The phrasing of the question wasn't exactly fair."

"You noticed that too huh?" I ask.

"I have to know Mom," Buffy interrupts, "What exactly did you think me and Willow were talking about at first anyway?"

Wordlessly Mrs. Summers points to our wrists. I glance down and notice the ornate design of the henna tattoo curled around my wrist and its double looping around Buffy's. We got them last weekend at mall, we thought they were kind of cool at the time.

I'd completely forgotten about it.

I can't help it, I begin to giggle, this sets Buffy off, I can feel her body shaking against mine, her laughter ringing in my ears, her cheek resting on my shoulder. Mrs. Summers joins in a few seconds later, resting her head in her hands laughing with the two of us.

"I...I was always worried, " Mrs. Summers gasps out, "That it would be some handsome, young man, that would take my daughter away from me. I completely ignored the..." she breaks off into another fit of giggles, "That it would be a beautiful young woman to carry her off!"

This makes me even laugh harder, Buffy's sucking in great whoops of air in between gales of laughter, she's not really embracing me anymore but more like hanging onto my shoulders for support. I'm still leaning on the counter, my knees threatening to go any second now.

"Act-" Fresh giggles force me to break off. "Actually," I say, "It's Buffy who does most of the carrying."

Buffy loses her battle with gravity and falls over sideways, laughing her head off, arms wrapped around her belly, curling up into a tight ball of giggles and chortles. A split second later I join her floorwise and can't really see much else, what with my ears tearing up from laughing so hard.

Eventually the laughter dies away and Buffy and I lay on the floor, wiping tears from our eyes, trying to catch our breath. I can't be sure where Mrs. Summers is, being that she's on the other side of the counter.

"You girls okay down there?" I hear her ask.

"We're fine, Mrs. Summers," I say.

"Peachy, Mom," Buffy answers.

"Okay, I'm going to take a shower then...oh I don't feel like cooking, how about we go out for breakfast." Mrs. Summers asks, still an unseen voice on the other side of the counter.

"Pancake house, Mom?" Buffy asks.

"Oh all right." Mrs. Summers sighs. "Get some clothes on, I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Aye, aye Mom." Buffy salutes from the floor. I stifle a giggle, can't let that start up again.

"Okay, Mrs. Summers," I answer. "We'll be ready."

I hear Buffy's mother shuffle out of the kitchen. She's probably thinking that his is not how she expected her Saturday to start out.

Buffy and I lay on the floor, her kitchen has the neatest stucco ceiling. I never noticed that before.

"Well," Buffy finally says. "That was easy."

"Easy." I echo.

"Now all we gotta do is tell Giles and the rest," she finishes her sentence.

I playfully hit her in the ribs.

"Hey!" she half shouts.

"Ow! That hurt!" I sit up shaking my hand, peering at her over my shoulder I give her a mock glare.

Buffy only quietly sniggers.

END-Forth Lesson


	5. Final Lesson

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whendon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr…arrggh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

Dianna Wears Red

Fifth Lesson

It is a very relaxed atmosphere surrounding our table at the local International House of Pancakes. Buffy, sitting across from me, is busy devouring her second plate of the 'Six Pack'. That being six huge flapjacks just drowning in syrup, butter and blueberries. It also comes with six sauseges, and six slices of bacon.

Mrs. Summers nibbles at her own plate scrambled eggs; occasionally glancing at her daughter seated beside her and how she appears to be inhaling the food, not exactly chewing it.

I shake my head in wonder as Buffy, still chewing on the last bite of her pancakes, chomps down one slice of bacon in a single bite.

"That's simply not kosher," I mumble quietly.

"That a religious based statement, girlfriend?" Buffy grins at me, smacking her lips loudly.

At the word 'girlfriend' Mrs. Summers, who was sipping at her orange juice, makes a slight strangled cough. She manages to contain it and not spray her drink all over the table. Buffy pays it no mind, and I follow her example.

"Nope," I shake my head again, "That's a thigh based statement. Yours are going to balloon up like...uh...er.." My brain fumbles the ball.

"Balloons?" Buffy adds helpfully, her eyes glittering with humor.

"Yeah, uh...like balloons," I agree weakly. "Okay, heh, that didn't really work out like I had planned."

"Um," Mrs. Summers says. Or not says.

"Yeah, Mom?" Buffy asks. "Whats up?"

"I was just wondering...er...I mean, that is you've made your position very clear, Buffy, but I'm still curious," Mrs. Summers glances at her plate of mostly untouched eggs. "I'm curious how all..." Her voice dies away and she waves her hand slightly to indicate me and Buffy.

"How it all started, Mom?" Buffy asks, now in a more subdued voice. She glances at her mother out of the corners of her eyes, not looking at her directly.

I try not to sigh to loudly. I know this is what Buffy wanted to do, she said she didn't want to have any more secrets but, as if we havn't dropped enough bombs on her poor Mom, now Buffy wants to share how she's...what? Become a midnight streaker? A hunter? Something less human but more...more... More Buffy?

Buffy silently puts her fork and knife down. There's a few scraps of sausage still on her plate but Buffy ignores the remaining food, I'm not sure she's seeing it.

I stretch my left leg out slowly and gently brush her own legs with it, some form, any form of contact will do. Her eyes flicker up to meet mine and a small grateful smile flashes across her face for a second. Then she stares back at her plate, looking more on the inside then anything outside.

"Okay Mom," Buffy speaks. "I'll tell you but there's more to it then just..." she repeats Mrs. Summers hand gesture. "Though that is the best part, and the most welcome."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Summers says, resting one elbow on the table, her chin resting on her hand. "There's more."

Its not a question.

Again Buffy's eyes flicker to meet mine. I smile slightly, "Yeah, Mrs. Summers," I say also quietly. "Lots."

"I'm listening." Mrs. Summers says calmly.

"Well..." I stutter, "I'm...I'm not sure where to begin really. Buffy?"

Buffy's silent for a moment, still staring at the uneaten food in front of her, soaking in the blueberry, syrup combo. Then, surprisingly, she snickers a bit.

"I just realised something," she says through her quiet laughter. "Maybe my life isn't that strange after all."

My eyes widen a little at that, Mrs. Summers also looks a little surprised.

"Uh, okay Buffy," I say quietly, leaning foward slightly. "How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," Buffy looks at me; her stare one of warmth and confidance, just a flash of humor too. "Like many great changes in peoples lives all over the world, Mom, this, Willow an' me, " Again an exact copy of Mrs. Summers innocent hand gesture, waving her hand at herself and me. "Everything I'm going to tell you, it all started in a bar."

Okay, breakfast's over. Lets go find Dr. Walsh, cause me and her have a few things to discuss.

Hm... she's not in the containment area, and the lab is empty, funny that. Usually their are experiments going on there twenty four seven. Maybe she's topside.

I head to the locker to grab civilian garb and on the way bump into Evens also changing.

He's sitting on a bench in front of a wall of lockers, struggling to put on a shirt and it looks like the shirt is winning. I lean against the doorframe and just watch.

He finishes putting on his t-shirt and I catch him wince slightly as he pulls his head through. Other than the wince he seem's okay.

"Evens," I say, nodding at him. He glances up and then bolts to his feet, and makes a pretty good attempt at standing at attention. I notice he clenches his teeth, I suppose he's trying not to voice and he seems to be favoring his right leg slightly.

"At ease soldier," I command, he settles into a relaxed stand, eyes stil straight ahead. "No, I meant that all the way Evens. We're off duty, topside procedure okay?"

Evens grins, and slumps to the bench, again wincing slightly. "Thanks Riley." He says. "How ya doin' anyhow?"

Topside procedure means we're supposed to treat each other like normal students, no military at all in any of our mannerisms. I settled down on the bench next to him. "I'm okay," I reply. "Feel like a large, walking bruise but...I'll survive. You?"

"I'd sum it up the same," Evens shrugs, bends over and starts lacing up his shoes. "Whatever that thing was seemed to not pay me much attention. I remember getting hit twice, once in the thigh, once in the ribs," He sits back up and twists at the waist slightly, gritting his teeth. "Yeah, still a bit tender."

I stand up, head to my locker. "Riley Finn," I say to the vocal recognition lock, with a quiet 'click' it pops open. I grab my clothes, green T-shirt, brown button down, blue jeans and belt and toss them on the bench.

"You got a cover story in mind?" I ask Evens as I pull off my military vest.

"Well," he says, he walks to his locker and pulls his backpack from it. "I was planning on using the old 'Touch football game with the buds that went crazy' one. Think it'll still work?"

"Yeah," I reply pulling on my T-shirt. "That'll do, mind if I use it too? Can explain how we all got bruises if we back each other up."

Evens stops in the doorway, "Think it'll come to that?"

I shake my head slightly, this kid has got a lot to learns. "Evens," I say, sighing slightly, "In terms of probability, no such precautions are not neccessary, but we don't deal with probabilities, we deal with possibilities. So even the possibility, no matter how remote is worth planning for. In other words, yeah, it could come to that."

I catch his eyes and stare at him without blinking. "Are we clear soldier?" I say quietly.

Instantly his bearing changes, shoulders back, spine stiff, standing at attention in the doorway with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Sir, yes sir!" Evens snaps out.

"Cool." I nod.

He takes his cue from my response and all military bearing vanishes.

"Later Riley, gotta get to class." Evens waves and the door slides shut behind him.

"Dismissed." I say to nobody and finished getting dressed.

I toss my fatigues in the locker, grab my books and shove them in my totebag. I head for the Prime Elevator that will take me directly to the frat house several stories above my head.

Exiting the Elevator I leave the frat house and make my way across campus to the Pychology dept. which is also run by Dr. Walsh. Pretty much the same way she runs The Inititiave. 'Bout the only difference is there I don't have to salute and all I have to deal with is bad papers, not some evolutionary throwback trying to gut me with its claws.

I stop in front of Dr. Walsh's door and knock carefully.

"Come," I hear her through the door.

"Dr. Walsh?" I inquire, "Can I talk to you for a moment."

"Riley, of course," Dr. Walsh says, swiveling in her chair from her computer screen to face me, a warm, welcoming smile on her face. It's a little bit unerving watching this woman go from ruthless military commander to a polite, gifted...well...human being! "Have a seat, Riley," she gestures with a hand, inviting me to make myself comfortable.

You have to know Dr. Walsh like I do to see the command in the way she phrases it.

"Thank you, Ma'am," I reply.

"Riley," she laughs slightly. "I'm not your mother, or some military ogre, no need to be so formal. Relax, tell me what's on your mind."

I can feel my face getting hot, I recognise the chastisment for what it is.

"Thanks Dr. Walsh," I lean back, cross my legs, the picture of a 'normal guy'. "It's about my...uh...study group, Dr. Walsh."

"Study group," she echoes, without inflection.

"Yeah, the one for extra curricular studies..."

"One moment," she interupts me holding up her hand to stall any protest I might make. As if I'd contradict her openly!

Dr. Walsh reaches under the desk and I hear a hight whine that quickly climbs beyond my ability to hear it. Dr. Walsh now sits at her desk, her fingers steepled, her eyes looking steadily into mine.

"You can speek freely Agent Finn," she says after a few moments.

I uncross my legs and sit up straight, again utalising the practice of staring over her shoulder without wavering and not meeting her eyes.

"Ma'am," I say. "I'm having concerns about my squad under Freeman's command."

"Is this personal, Agent Finn?" Dr. Walsh asks, looking at me over her steepled fingers.

"I'd prefer my second-in-command, Agent Gates, were to replace me since I have been placed on special assignment." I say briskly. "Agent Gates is a good man, he knows the rhythms of the team and-"

"Isn't fit to command a pre-school recess." Dr. Walsh interupts me again, her voice laced with derision.

Her tone nearly makes me forget myself, I almost glance at her but I resist the urge. "Oh don't mistake me, Agent Finn," Dr. Walsh continues, leaning foward slightly. "Agent Gates is an excellent soldier, quick to obey orders, follows them through to the letter and can get the objectives completed with admirable effenciancy, but, even you, Agent Finn, have to admit that he likes the err..." Here she pauses and raises her eyebrows slightly. "Physcial aspects of his job a bit too much."

I give a mental shrug, she does have a point. Forrest can be a little to eager for some rough and tumble from time to time.

"Agent Freeman scored second highest in Command Simulations durning the Inititiaves trial, he held himself in esteem while commanding Beta Squad. Your men will be in good hands." says turning back to her computer and then she resumes typing. "You have your assignment Finn, carry it out."

"Yes, Ma'am," I say, I'm trying not to grit my teeth.

"Oh, and Riley?" Dr. Walsh turns again to face me. "Did you get those reports done?"

"Yeah Dr. Walsh," I smile back at her. This is wierd how we can just switch from military to cilivilan like this. Even I'm doing it.

I reach into my toteback and hand her the corrected papers. "Here ya go."

"Oh this helps me out a lot." Dr. Walsh says, taking the papers. She scans the top one and makes a slight clucking sound. "Only a B Minus?" she asks rhetorically. "I expected better of this one."

I shrug, "He got careless," I reply.

"Well, that's that then." Dr. Walsh says turning her back to me, placing the papers on her desk. "Thanks again Riley, and take the afternoon off you still look a little beat up after your...er...football game?" she ventures.

"Yeah," I smile sheepishly. "Football game."

"Have a good one, Riley." Dr. Walsh says turning back to her computer.

"You too, Dr. Walsh." And I step back into the hallway.

I manage not to slam the door on the way out.

"You're turning into an animal?" Mrs. Summers asks. She finished her orange juice a long time ago but she's still holding onto the empty glass so tightly her knuckles are white.

Buffy rolls her eyes. "No Mom, that's the exact opposite of what I'm trying to tell you."

"Doesn't sound like it to me," Mrs. Summers mutters, she lifts her glass to her lips to drink and, seeing its empty, places it back on the table. Buffy gets the attention of the waitress.

"Two orange juices, please," she says, holding up two fingers. "Anything you want Will?"

I'm so wrapped up in watching these two, daughter and mother, have their discussion I sorta forget that I'm actually part of the whole deal until Buffy asks me the question.

"Huh...what?" I jerk upright a little, then give an embarrassed smile. "Um...no...Buffy I'm alright, that is okay...fine with...my..." I hold up my half empty glass of coke. "See? Not empty. I'll wait till its empty," still smiling I nod my head at the waitress. "Thanks though."

The waitress smiles politly, jots down a few notes are her pad and dissapears into the back.

"You run around at night," Mrs. Summers says.

"I've been doing that for years," Buffy counters.

"Naked." Mrs. Summers finishes.

"Damnit," Buffy fumes, drumming her fingers on the table. "You weren't supposed to know about that part."

"I'm sorry," I squeak, "It just...storta slipped out, Buffy. You did say you didn't want to keep any secrets from your mother."

"Yeah, but Will," Buffy replies, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "There were some aspects of it that I'd have prefered we kept to ourselves! I mean, why not just tell my mother what we did last weekend?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Mrs. Summers says weakly. She's holding her head in her hands and massaging her temples, slowly.

"Why not, Mrs. Summers?" I query. "What's the big deal of two girls sharing...what was it Buffy? Four ice cream sundaes?"

"Five," Buffy replies nonchalantly. "It was five. And I don't think Mom wouldn't want to know about those Willow, rather what happened after."

Now I'm really confused. "Harrison Ford movie night? Your Mom's doesn't like Harrison Ford? How can anyone find fault with Indy?"

"You're a cutie," Buffy says leaning foward now and resting her elbows on the tables. "But sometimes you scare me, Will. My mother likes Harrison Ford just fine."

"He's okay." Mrs. Summers amends.

Glaring briefly at her mother before turning back to me Buffy continues, "I think she wouldn't be intrested in what happened after that," she says putting extra tension on the 'after'.

Oh!

"Oh!" I say.

I get it.

"I get it," I say. "Yeah wouldn't want to be telling your Mom about how-"

My brain catches up with my mouth at the very last second and I clap a hand over my mouth. "Nnnthnngg." I mumble.

"Buffy," Mrs. Summers says quietly. "You were assuring me you're not turning into an animal?"

"I'm trying to figure out how, Mom," Buffy replies.

"You mean you don't know?" Mrs. Summers replies, her voice climbing in volume.

"No," Buffy shook her haid violently, long her whipping around, the light from the window glistening in her clean and...darn. Got distracted. How does she do that to me anyways? "That's just it, Mom," Buffy continues. "I do know, I know its right and good. It works with me, works deep inside here," she places her hand over her heart. Hey, that's my job! "I just don't know how to convice you, or anybody else of it."

Mrs. Summers doesn't look like she's buying it. She's frowning slightly, staring at her only daughter without blinking. She doesn't say anything either. Buffy too has stopped talking and staring right back at her mother; a stalemate.

Nobody's saying anything, even in the normal humm of conversation from other customers seems to fade away. Neither woman is giving an inch in their beliefs. Mrs. Summers is depending on parental concern and, probably, yet another thing she can't understand about her daughter. Something else that puts Buffy just a little farther out of her reach; another factor of her daughters life that she can't share.

Wait a sec...is that ...that...Mrs. Summers feelings or...uhm...maybe, maybe my own?

Buffy herself isn't backing down either. She's not going to either. Her lips are drawn across her face in a flast line, arms crossed across her chest, she's not blinking, she's so still she's not even breathing. Or doesn't look like it.

I guess I can understand her, she's been doing this for a long while now and one of the things thats kept her alive is her instincts. Okay, they're not flawless but...she trusts them. Heck, I trust em' too and...I guess that means that...

"I trust her." I say quietly.

Both Mrs. Summers and Buffy turn to stare at me, Mrs. Summers looks a little surprised and Buffy's features have softened a bit.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say, Willow?" Mrs. Summers asks me. She's not staring staring at me, I mean not hard staring but she's not...she's being ...uhm...she's just looking at me. A lot.

"I...I...said that I trust her, Buffy I mean, Mrs. Summers." I say again. I've got my fingers wrapped around each other under the table. I start sliding my thumbs together.

"She's...she says this is alright. That she's okay," I press on. "And I believe her. Cause...well..." I shrug helplessly. "She's happy."

"Happy." Mrs. Summers repeats my word, and not as a question either.

"Yes happy." And now it's my turn to look at Mrs. Summers without flinching. "She, Buffy, hasn't had a great time...ever really and she's happy now. Happier then I've ever seen her. I mean, sure, she's had good times and bad times but there's...I dunno..." I lean back in my seat, brain whirling, trying to find how to express what I, myself have just realised. "There's always been this slight melencholy about her but...now...now there isn't anymore."

I glance at Buffy who's just looking back at me, her ...I guess...she's looking at me softly. A small smile works at the corners of her lips and...and...hey! Is she blushing?

She's BLUSHING!

I made Buffy blush!

Yay me me me! Oh...no wait. That means I've humilated her in front of her mother, oh she's going to be so angry; Buffy hates being embarressed, I'll have to buy some chocolate ice cream to make it up to her! Yeah, chocoloate ice cream and ...er...Oreos. Yeah, she'd like Oreos. And what else...

Buffy's fingertips gently sliding along my cheek distract me from my inner thoughts. She's leaning across the table and looking me right in the eyes. No, I guess she wasn't blushing, her eyes look kinda shiny. Oh God! I made her want to cry! Okay, TWO tubs of chocolate ice cream!

"I think, Willow," Buffy says, her voice sounds a little horse. "That you had something to do with me being happy."

Now I think I'm going to start crying.

Me and Buffy...are we going to start crying in the Internations House of Pancakes? This is a nightmare!

If I blame her for making me cry, who owes who the ice cream?

"Ahem," Mrs. Summers clears her throat. Buffy sits back down, quickly mouthing the words 'love you'. Mrs. Summers is looking at me so I give Buffy a wink.

"So, you can't explain exactly what's going on inside Buffy, but you're convinced that its a good thing, and you Willow," Mrs. Summers pauses and sorta...doesn't look at anything. I remain quiet then, "You trust what's going on? Is that about it?"

"Yeah, I guess that's about right," I answer with a shrug.

"It's a good thing, Mom," Buffy adds, she reaches across the table and grabs my hand. "So's this."

Mrs. Summers takes a deep breath, holds it and lets it out slowly. "Okay honey," she sits back in her chair. "This is something that has to do with the...other stuff and I guess I have to trust your judgement."

Buffy herself lets out a sigh, probably one of relief. I know I would in her place. "Thanks Mom. Hey, I am going to tell Giles about what's going on. I'm sure he's got some stuff on it buried in a book somewhere."

"And what if you learn that this...event...change...whatever," Mrs. Summers replies. "Isn't a good thing after all?"

"Then I'll..." Buffy pauses and squeezes my hand. "We'll handle it."

Old habits die hard. Every time the stewardess, or another passenger walks down the aisle behind me my right hand clenches tight. The itch to have my best knife is unbearable. That's impossible though, my best knife was left behind in my cabin.

I hate this, I hate being off the earth, surrounded by steel and plastics. I'm starving for something to eat but the wave of nausea that hit me when they dropped their 'dinner' in front of me nearly had me running for the bathroom. It gets worse. To 'fit in' it was suggested I dress in more appropriate clothing. So now I'm sitting on a plane, in an environment that it totally foreign to me, and wearing clothing that was made from some synthetic nonsense. Alright its comfortable but there's the nagging feeling in my head, insisting that none of what I have on is actually real and if I move too fast it'll all go flying to pieces.

To cap it all off I'm surrounded by very ugly things. Destroyers, patient, evil, ruthless things that go about taking and taking and giving nothing back.

Okay, there's a small chance I'm being slightly extreme but I can't help the fact I don't like people. I particularly don't like people who come all the way out where I live, calling in old favors. I prefer it when people forget favors. I should have known better. These particular people don't forget anything. I doubt they've forgotten anything since that damn apple. Course they don't believe in that and, come to think of it, neither do I. So they came, with their damn accents, and attitudes and tell me I am needed.

They have a job for someone, how did they put it? 'A specific induvidual with a truly unique set of skills'. Why couldn't they just come up and asked like normal people.

I stare out the window at the clouds blocking out the land below, my idle fingers begin to drum on the armrest as I seek a hole, somewhere, in the cloud cover, something to reassure me that the ground is actually still there.

"Don't like flying?" Great. My seatmate finally got desperate enough to try and begin a conversation. It only took him, what, seven hours?

I sigh and turn away from the window, "Look, no offense or anything but you smoke too much, drink too much, your digestion sucks and that twenty four hour deodorant you're wearing? Yeah, it conked out about three hours ago. I generally don't like people and am not interested in small talk. Go away." I turn back to the window.

His face pales, maybe he's not used to being talked to like that. Well, if he doesn't like that, but wants to keep talking to me he better get used to it. I notice the 'fasten seat belt' sign activates and my ears pop. We're descending, must be landing soon.

"Uh..." my seatmate stutters. "How...how do you know all that?"

"Your breath reeks," I reply without turning around.

He gives a nervous chuckle, "What are you, some kind of doctor?"

I spin around and give him my 'look'. It's the hard stare that makes angry bears decide to find something else to bellow at, it's that gaze that pushes away fellow predators and prevents them from taking what's mine. It's the features of what I am and what I use to express my territory.

"No," I say, his breathing increases and I watch the pulse in his neck start to flutter. "I'm a hunter."

"No Mom, you don't have to come in with us, we'll be fine," Buffy says to her mother still inside her car. Mrs. Summers has given us a lift from the resteraunt to outside Giles house. We've been sitting here for a few minutes though while Mrs. Summers tries to...be motherly I suppose.

"Are you sure Buffy?" Mrs. Summers ask, being the concerned mother in every way and form. I think, cause its not like I saw it often from my own mother. "I mean I could lend ...morale support. It was a bit of a shock but... I'm getting used to the idea. I could say something, I mean...be some sort of buffer?"

"Mom," Buffy says getting out of the car. "We'll be fine. I trust Giles and Xander and..."

"Anya," I fill in the blank, I open the car door and move to stand beside Buffy, unconsiously she reaches back to take my hand. To Mrs. Summers credit she doesn't take her eyes off her daughter. Not even a flicker.

"Yeah, Anya..uh... her. Well, I don't trust her trust her but I trust Xander to trust her so ..." Buffy breaks off. "Does that actually make any sense?"

"Somewhat," Mrs. Summer smiles. "Alright honey, I'll be at the gallery if you need anything. Er...will you girls be spending the night? I can clean up the guest room or...if...you prefer..."

Buffy rolls her eyes, "Couple Mom, we're a couple. So, yeah we prefer."

"Oh, alright dear." Mrs. Summers says weakly. "I said I was getting used to it. I'll keep at it, get all the way through, fast as I can."

"I love you too, Mom," Buffy smiles.

"Thanks for breakfast Mrs. Summers," I say waving.

Mrs. Summers looks at me, still smiling warmly. "You're very welcome Willow. I'll see you two this evening then, alright?

"You got it Mom," Buffy says.

Putting her car in gear smoothly, something Buffy still has yet to master, Mrs. Summers pulls away from the curve. I can't help it, I wave until she's out of sight. I want to make a good first impression...but that doesn't make any sense 'cause I've known Mrs. Summers for years. Oh...uh...maybe I want to make a good first impression as her daughters girlfriend.

Hey, girlfriend, I thought girlfriend.

And I'm comfortable with it, now all I gotta do is be able to say it.

"Shall we?" Buffy asks me, inviting me down the path that leads to Giles house.

"Do you love me?" I ask impulsivly.

"Yes," Buffy replies without hesitation. "As sure as I love salty potato chips!"

"Hey, you did read King Lear," I reply. "I'm impressed. Sorta. The potato chips threw me."

"Don't admire me too much," Buffy says. She tugs at my hand gently and I follow, letting her pull me into an embrace. "Been wanting to do this all morning," she murmers. She pulls me close and wraps her arms around me, I do the same. She moves her hands up and down along my back and I sigh and let my head rest on her shoulder.

She's warm and soft, smells kinda good. Bit of residual syrup smell but...that's all good.  
I just let her hold me, and I hold her, enjoying the contact.

"I do love you," Buffy whispers in my ear.

"Then I'm ready," I whisper back.

Reluctantly, cause I could stay in her arms all day, we let each other go, though I keep a firm grip on her hand, and head down the path to the Scoobie meeting.

Despite Dr. Walsh's assurances that Freeman can take care of my men, and the advice she gave me to take the afternoon off I still have a few misgivings about the whole thing.

In other words I'm mad as hell and trying to work through it by beating the body bag in the gym to death.

I circle the heavy bag warily, treating it like it was the most dangerous creature on the face of the earth, if I make single mistake it'll rip me to pieces. Alright, I might be projecting a little too much on a large, heavy, bag of hard rubber but...

I move in with a low jab that has all my weight behind it, if I'd hit a human with this it'd leave him doubled over, gasping for air as his lungs tried to refill with air, if I put all my strength behind it I'd probably crush his sternum.

I back off two steps, feet shuffling quickly, as if I'm trying to back out of range of any attempts at counterstrikes. Normally two steps would get me out of range but most of the things I go up against have longer limbs, so I back up another step quickly. Then I move in again.

I hunch down, center my gravity, feint left and then come up with the right to deliver a crushing overhand blow, again I keep the extention short and put my weight behind it. A blow like this, if connecting right, would shatter a mans jaw, or his nose depending on where I wanted it too go. Might even drive him to his knees.

I remember that thing in the dorm room, a blur of white and ...eyes. I remember eyes. I wonder if I hit that thing like I'm pounding on the body bag would it even notice?

Alright this isn't helping me relax. If anything I'm getting angrier. Another left right sends the bag spinning away from me slowly, like a man reeling away from the fight, the setup is perfect. I step toward it, pivot and go for a spin kick.

I push the anger down, I squeese it from my mind, feeling the boost to muscles and speed, this will probably be the finest spin kick I've ever done. I can feel the wind wipping around me for that split second I'm in motion, the sweat gluing my shirt to my back and chest, halfway through the spin I bring my leg up, letting centrificul force accelerate me even further and, perfectly, the bulk of my shin and flat top of my foot connects with the side of the bag.

A loud crack echoes throughout the empty gym and the bag starts spinning madly. I imagine what a blow like that would have done to a man, probably have taken his head right off.

But I don't fight men, I fight monsters and last night a monster beat me, but not just me but four other men who could, maybe not beat me, but at least hold their own against me for a while. This thing, if had hit it with that most beautiful spin kick, would it have felt it? Would it have slowded down at all or would it have just ignored it, maybe just like I might ignore a mosquito.

Could I stop it?

I don't know, I really don't know.

Someone's applauding.

I turn around to see Forrest leaning against the door frame clapping his hands slowly. He's got a cane leaning against his thighs, but seems, for the most part well enough.

"Forrest," I say, a grin splitting my face. "You're out? I'm surprised." I reach out to shake his hand which he accepts with a smile.

"Checked myself out bud; you know how it is Riley, the medcenter doesn't even get daytime TV and I could not miss my soaps." He jokes. I think.

He nods in the direction of the body bag still slowly spinning, "Anybody we know?" he asks.

"How about an incredibly fast, white blur that happened to obliterate us last night?" I reply.

Forrest continues nodding slowly. "I hear ya bud, I hear ya. The doc got anything in mind? Cause I'm eager for some payback." He slams his right fist into the palm of his left hand. "We know the bitch who lives in that room right? We going to...ah...intercept her maybe? For questioning?"

Maybe...just mmmaaaayybbbeee...Dr. Walsh wasn't that far off assigning Freeman to take over my squad. Forrest's eyes suddenly have a bit on a unhealthy sheen to them and his smile is just a bit too wide for my liking.

"Sorry man," I say meaning not one word of it. "Ixnay on the interception."

Forrest does a double take, "What?" His voice echoes off the walls. "Has command lost its mind? That little bitch is a traitor! She tried to help the fuckin' thing that did this to us Riley!"

"Yeah, I know Forrest, I know," I hold my hands up, trying to placate him. "But command has something else in mind. Dr. Walsh wants me to take this on solo."

Again Forrest shouts, "What?" very loudly. Too loudly.

I pull him into the gym and slam the door shut. "Keep it down!" I hiss at him.

"Why not just paste a sticker to your bald head reading, "Hi, I'm your handy, dandy, black op soldier, how can I help you today?'"

Forrest stares at me angrilly, but I meet his stare inch for inch, pound for pound. I'm right and he knows it, there's also the fact that I'm his superior officer.

Forrest breaks and looks away, "Yeah, okay, damn. You're right," he mumbles.

"Damn straight I am," I nod. "Now look Forrest, I've been given some special assignment. Something like infiltration. We know who the girl in that room was and Doc Walsh wants me to...I dunno... become her friend or somthin'. Maybe even start something romantic."

Forrest is staring at me like I've just proposed sodomy.

"You're kidding," he finally says.

I shake my head, if he laughs at me, injured or no I'm gonna pound him.

"Science wants this thing bad," I explain. "Real bad and alive. You're probably right that this girl knows the thing and that's the link the doc wants to try and exploit. She doesn't want to take any chances with this HST getting away so that's why all this..." I wave my hand angrilly. "James Bond shit."

Forrest keeps staring at me for a bit before he shrugs. "Okay," he says. "Okay tactically I guess it makes sense. Don't mean I like it none."

"You and me both, bro." I sigh. Walking over to a nearby bench I grab my towel and begin wiping the sweat off my face.

Forrest hobbles across the gym and sits down on the bench next to the wall. So who is this girl anyhow?" he aks me.

"Rosenberg," I answer, still wiping my face. This keeps me from seeing his face. "Willow Rosenberg."

Then I put the towel down. Forrest is staring at me with a slightly manical grin on his face, then he begins to laugh, then his laugh grows to the point where it almost sounds forced. Every once in a while his laughter is interupted by his barely recognisable cries of 'Oh man.' and 'You're screwed buddy.' which just makes him laugh harder.

"What?" I say helplessly. "Whaddya know, Forrest."

Forrest stares at me increduliously, a huge grin on his face. "You...you don't know?" he starts chuckling.

I bend down, grab him by his shirt collar off the ground and life him off the ground. "What the hell are you talking about, Forrest?" I want to shake him.

He just chortles a few times(Real men don't giggle.) and holds up his hands, "Hey man, relax, relax its just kinda funny. Put me down, I'll tell ya, I'll tell."

I set him on his feet and he's still snickering, finally he stops, sighs, snorts, and shakes his head once last time. "I'm not too sure bud, but ...man you sure know how to pick em'..."

"Forrest." I growl, gritting my teeth.

"Okay, okay," he says hasilty. "Look it's just rumor but... you sure her name is Willow Rosenberg?"

"Yes," I say impatiently. "I'm positive. Now what the hell is going on?"

"S'just the grapvine," Forrest says still grinning at me. "Can't be sure man, can't be sure but the word out there is that your little girlfriend-to-be is taken."

"Yeah, so?" I answer. I don't HAVE to have a romantic relationship just to get possible info.

"By another girl." Forrest finishes.

"Huh?" I huh.

Forrest rolls his eyes, "She's gay numnutz boy, your precious little assignment is a carpet munching dyke!"

Oh great.

END- Fifth Lesson


	6. Nocturnal Interludes: Primus

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr…arrgh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

Dianna Wears Red

Nocturnal Interludes

I'm hot. I'm really, really, hot.

We've been given a new dorm room because the school is very upset about how Buffy and I were attacked. Or more to the point the school is concerned that Mrs. Summers will sue them as she threatened to do when she called them Sunday. So we've gotten a new room. A bigger room. On the fourth floor.

Buffy thinks we should be okay being so near the stairwell an' all. I also said I'd try and set up sorta a...magic alarm thing. I would've had it done but I'm having a hard time making sure it doesn't go off every time someone walks down the hall.

The new room is very nice. It's in the corner of the dorm so it's about two feet bigger on each side; the public bathroom is right next door so I don't have to run down the hallway before taking a shower and afterwards. This is very important because on the one hand I don't like drying off in front of relative strangers so I usually leave the bathroom not quite dry; which means I get cold. Now with the bathroom right next door I don't have quite so far to dash.

Only now, Tuesday night, in the middle of a surprise heat wave do I realize that not everything in our new room is wonderful. Namely how hot I am.

I should have figured it out sooner, heat rises and all that. And the school doesn't have air conditioning in the dorms. (The sororities and fraternities but the dorms? Noooo) So here I am, lying on my bed, wearing only a loose tank top and shorts with one of those tiny, tiny fans blowing still hot air at me so it does nothing. This makes me cranky as well as keeping me hot. Fans should ...should fan! With nice cool air sliding over overheated skin bringing sweet relief. It shouldn't be terrible hot night air making my clothes, fresh changed ones even, stick to my skin 'cause of sweat. I'm hot, tired, sweaty, cranky and trying very hard not to think about my homework.

S'funny but I used to be so good at doing that stuff. Sorta like a mailman.

Neither rain, nor sleet, nor cold of...of...something or other shall keep a Rosenberg from their academic studies. Right now though the only similarity I have to a mailman is that if I get any hotter and crankier I'll probably go postal.

Buffy isn't here either. She's out. Outside. In the dark. She came home from class, we snuggled a bit than, after the sun set, she took off her clothes, blew me a kiss and leaped out the window. It's rather strange; outside our old room was a tree with a branch at just the right height so Buffy could come and go as she pleased. Outside our new room is another tree, taller than the first with another branch perfectly placed so Buffy can still come and go as she pleases.

I roll over on my bed with a grunt and eye the tiny fan. It's not fair. Buffy's out there probably having a great time. Jumping from tree to tree, laughing as the cool night air keeps her all light and beautiful, not letting her get hot n'sweaty cause the deep woods are just so sweet smelling. She's probably glowing under the moonlight- No, scratch that it's a new moon so she's probably glowing under the starlight and just having a swell old time.

Hunting vampires, yes.

Putting her life at risk, yes.

Naked, yes.

But she's probably not hot, no.

And here I am sitting by my lonesome with my clothes all sticky and feeling hot, miserable and cranky. My only company this stupid little fan that has nothing to contribute except an annoying high pitched whine as it's even more tiny motor does absolutely nothing useful.

The head of the fan swings back away from me and slowly turns to face my desk. The warm breeze it blows ruffles a few loose papers on the desk which blow off and then gently drift to the floor. This only reminds me of my homework I'm ignoring.

I'd sigh and hide my head under my pillow but that would involve moving.

Also having a pillow on my head would just make me hotter and I did say that if I got any hotter I'd go postal and that means I'd be obligated to go postal and I really don't want to do that because it would involve violence and screaming and Buffy would be pretty upset with me and I definitely wouldn't like the consequences and-

Right. You know you're too hot when you're letting your very own thoughts babble. Wiping my forehead with my hand I swing my legs off my bed. Might as well go take another shower. What...my...fifth today I think?

Buffy's head pokes through the open window(Fat lot of good that did) and she smiles at me.

"Hey Will," she beams at me.

"Hmph," I rely sitting back down.

Buffy clambers through- No, not clambers. Clambers implies ungrateful and clumsy. Truthfully she practically floats through the window, I guess eases would be a good adjective of choice. Or is that adverb? Either way she gets into the room.

"What's the what my wiccan?" she chirrups bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Normally when Buffy bounces I note all sorts of interesting side effects, these are very obvious when she is without clothes but this time I don't really notice. She's naked so often and I'm too hot.

"Hmmph," I repeat crossing my arms and staring at my desk.

"Will?" Buffy asks, I detect a note of anxiety in her voice.

"Hmmmmpppphhh!" I say.

Buffy is silent for a moment before she asks, "Is something wrong, Willow?"

I turn to face her, opening my eyes real wide and repeat the crossing of my arms a few times. "Hmmph," I hmph, crossing my arms. "Hmph, hmph, hmph!" I repeat, crossing my arms each time.

Buffy sits down on the floor and leans back against the edge of her bed, which we don't use.

"Uh," she murmurs. "Okay...did...you somehow accidentally super-glue your mouth shut and are asking for help?"

I do not roll my eyes but am tempted. "No Buffy," I say sighing. "I'm hot."

"Hey, yeah," Buffy snaps her fingers while glancing around the room as if she's never seen it before. "It is kinda warm in here."

"Yeah, well glad you noticed," I snap. I shouldn't really but the grouchies are in control.

"I mean," I continue. "You go out and are dancing in the trees, probably all cool and comfortable getting to play and have fun and here I sit getting hot n'sweaty."

"Nothing wrong with hot and sweaty," Buffy says while batting her eyebrows. She tries to be insinuating.

"Well no, not that kind." I reply. "But the kind where I have to keep pulling the seat of my shorts out of my ...er...keep my clothes from getting stuck; that's not the fun kind."

Buffy opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off, I'm on a roll.

"So you go out, without clothes, not that I have a problem with that at all, but you get to be all cool and comfortable and even though you do, sometimes, have to engage in life or death combat you're probably having more fun than me. Meanwhile I," I stand up and pull my tank top away from my chest to emphasize my point. "Have to deal with clinging clothing and humidity and getting crankier and crankier. Wheras you," I stab a finger at her. "Come home clean, cool, beautiful and happy."

Buffy just stares at me as I breath deeply, regaining my equilibrium. A trickle of sweat slides down my nose which I wipe off.

"I'm...I'm not all clean." Buffy mumbles. "I got some mud between my toes, see?" She extends her legs and spreads her toes. Indeed they do have some mud between them.

"Was the mud cool and comfortable?" I ask. "Did it squelch as it yummily brought relief to your overheated toes?"

Buffy face turns a little red, "Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that, Will but...for the most part yeah." she admits looking at her feet. She wiggles her cool, muddy toes.

"So you got to, get to, play in the mud and have fun being, oh I dunno fancy free and here I sit-"

Buffy lurches off the ground from her seated position and flings her arms around my shoulders planting a deep one right on my open mouth. Instinct is, I'll admit it, a wonderful thing because even though I am surprised my body reacts naturally welcoming her affection. Her fingers lazily slide under the edge of the tank top and she drags her nails up along my spine.

I hope she's got her feet firmly planted 'cause if she doesn't I'm going to fall over. Nope, guess she don't got em' planted. Well not both of 'em because she's now sliding her foot up the back of my left leg, up and down up and down. Up and up and up her foot moves till it's halfway up my thigh; my Slayer is so flexible.

My hands grasp at her, trying to find purchase on her smooth skin; I grab her by the shoulders and hang on. She devours me, everywhere. The kiss ends but I don't mind because she's moved to small kisses tracing along my jaw, up it...oh...oh the ear...she's...oh God, yes, nibble Buffy, nibble...her foot slides down my leg and back to the ground. Why? Oh, so she could...could step around me. She slides around me, her hands move to my front, still sliding under my top, gently scratching little whirls and loops in my belly. Scratch, scratch scratch, feeling lovely, not tickling; I have a happy belly. I let myself go, my head falls back on Buffy's shoulder and I let out a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding.

"Buffy," I whine. "What're you doin'?" I think my voice slurs a bit. My ears aren't at full operational status what with so much blood rushing elsewhere.

Buffy stops nuzzling at the back of my neck long enough to whisper in my ear, "Keeping a promise."

I'd puzzle over that answer, because I don't remember any promise like this! Then again that would mean objecting and no force on Earth could make do that. Buffy removes her right hand from under my top. Her fingers slide up my side, on top of my top darnit, till she's caressing my cheek; which feels nice but not as nice as its original task was. Buffy moves her other hand in widening circles 'round and 'round my belly.

"Oh." I gasp when her hand climbs a little, reaching its peak just below my solar plexus.

"Oh." I gasp again when it returns, reaching a little higher this time. Just...just below my...breast.

"Oh no." I whimper; her hand does not make a return trip. Instead Buffy slides her left hand up my other side, under my top until she's wrapped her fingers around my shoulder and is gently pulling me against her. I sink into her reverse hug, my hands curl into fists.

Then she covers my eyes.

"Buffy what?" I ask or try to, she's started nibbling at my other ear. What I actually get out is, "Buffy whammmm..."

Then she stops.

"Are you enjoying this Willow?" she murmurs into my ear.

"Uh huh!" I nod. There would be more but...nibbles!

Buffy nips at the back of my neck again.

"Do you," Buffy nips me.

"...want me..." Nip. I cross my toes.

"...to stop?" Nip.

I'm biting my lip so verbal response is impossible.

"Nu-uh, nu-uh, NU-UH!" I shake my head as well as...grunting actually. That is I'm trying to shake my head. Buffy still has her hands over my eyes.

"Okay then," Buffy interrupts herself to gently run the very tip of her tongue along the rim of my right ear. "I need you to make me a promise so I can keep mine, Willow." Buffy breathes. "Will you?"

"Anything, Buffy," I murmur. I want this conversation over!

"Keep your eyes closed?" Buffy asks me. "No matter what until I say? Will you do that?"

"Yes of course! No problem, no siree. Eyes shut, eyes wwwiiidddee shut," I pause. "I really didn't like that movie."

"Neither did I," Buffy adds. "Here we go!"

"Go?" I manage to squeak, a horrible idea suddenly popping in my head which is instantly realized when Buffy sweeps me into her arms. "Don't open your eyes," she says into my ear.

I won't.

Which means I have no idea how we get through the window; I feel Buffy move next I can feel the slightly cooler air of the outside rushing past us. Buffy must be hurtling through the dark. I know this as the wind whips by whistling in my ears. But that is the only way I know; there is no other sounds, just the wind. I can't even feel her feet hitting the ground. My eyes are closed so all I see is the dark, all I hear is the wind, all I can feel is the cool night air and the heat of Buffy. All I smell is...trees. We're deep in the woods; I can smell the freshness around me.

It's peaceful, just like always, when Buffy carries me. So quiet and relaxed and I feel so good finally out from the stifling heat of our new room and cool and free. My mind sorta slips away for a little while, I just settle deeper in Buffy's arms. We must be quite a sight; two young women, one being carried by the other, rushing through the darkness of Sunnydale. Bet any male, vampire or otherwise, would love to see us! I know they won't, though; Buffy doesn't want us to be seen so we won't be.

Sorry boys.

Buffy is holding me tight and I don't even get jostled a tiny bit as she...runs? Jumps? I'm not sure, but I'm perfectly comfortable the entire time as she moves however she is moving. Time passes and I'm getting more and more relaxed. Cool, comfortable...safe...and...gettin' kinda...um...sleepy... Buffy's shoulder is soooo comfy and I wouldn't...I yawn...a little nap...

"Willow."

"Hrrmpphrblll," I mumble.

"Willow," Buffy whispers into my ear again. "Wakey wakey, we're here."

"S'nice," I mumble, my eyes firmly shut. "Can I go back ta' sleep nah?"

"You kept your promise," Buffy says, not making it a question.

"Yup!" I nod affirmatively, more like twitch. "Keepin' eyes shut is not my problem, gettin' em open. Now ya might be askin' fer more than I can give."

Buffy is quiet a moment, her chest rises and falls against my side as she breathes slowly, evenly. She's not even out of breath; that's my Buffy!

"Open your eyes, Willow," she again whispers.

"Awww, but I'm so comfy!" I whine. I push my head against where Buffy's shoulder and neck meet, trying to get closer and warmer.

"Open your eyes," Buffy repeats.

"Oh alright," I reply, sticking out my lower lip a bit in a pout. "But this better be-"

The dark around us is impenetrable. It must be the black of the deep woods; it stretches away from us for quite a distance, like we're standing at the edge of a great field. I can't be sure though because I can't make out any details. On the horizon I can make out the edges of trees because their darkness is greater that the dark of night sky. The silhouettes of leafy branches waving in the slight wind, etched out against the backdrop of the starry sky is all around us. Between me and Buffy, and the black edge of trees is a flat place of black. I strain my eyes but can't make any details out. Any at all. As if a large circular area of the earth was scooped out and Indian ink dropped in the recess. Than my eyes adjust just enough for me to make out...reflections. The stars are shining in that inky pool; shining off the cool, flat, even surface of some sort of small lake in the middle of the woods.

"Put-put me down," I whisper to Buffy. "Please?"

Wordlessly Buffy crouches down and sets my feet on the soft earth. My toes sink slightly into cool moss and lichen, they tickle the skin in between my toes slightly. I stand there, with lichen tickled toes, having a very hard time catching my breath. "It's-It's beautiful," I breathe.

"I stumbled across if a few weeks ago," Buffy says. She stands beside me, watching me take in the view of the place.

"I've never been here during the day," she continues speaking. "I doubt I could find it honestly."

I look at her. She is, except for the stars, the only thing I can make out in this friendly darkness. Yes, friendly; there is no vibe of danger, no secrets, nothing terrible lurking in the shadows. The darkness marks the edge of the world right now, our world. Buffy's pale skin glows slightly, the only light around us. Her skin gathering, reflecting what little light the stars send to us. Her hair is almost completely invisible except for a slight shimmering as that same breeze that was sifting through the branches gently blows across her.

She takes a step toward me. We're so close that the tips of our noses are almost touching. Buffy's...er...her...are pressing against mine. It's a nice kinda of pushing. Not firm just...'hello' kind of thing. I feel more than see her hand reach up and then I do feel it when she rests it on my shoulder. I can't really see her features in this dark, just a hint here and there. Her tongue flickers out and licks her lips. I can see the hint of moisture reflect a little bit of light.

Buffy begins toying with the straps of my tank top.

"Do you like this tank top, Willow?" she asks me.

"Uh...no," I stammer. "It's nothing special. A Wallmart bargain kind of thing. Why?"

"Good," Buffy whispers.

Her fists clench around the straps and she slowly starts pulling apart the tank top. In what little light there is I can see her eyes watching me. Is she thinking that I'll object? That I'll think she's gone crazy? Feral maybe?

I don't.

I love her.

She stops moving her arms though I the material of my tank top has started to tear. She is wondering.

I look at her.

I nod.

Once.

My tank top doesn't exactly rip apart, more like sighs gently. The sound of it being shredded by Buffy strangely hushed or muffled at this black space in a dark wood.

Buffy studies me, arms wide her fists still clenched around the tattered remains of my tank top; I smile at her and she smiles back.

Then Buffy sinks to her knees. She starts caressing my legs with her hands; starting at my ankles moving her hands up, over my calves to the back of my knees. She stops just between my thighs and butt. She holds her hands there, letting them linger; my legs start getting warm. She audibly swallows and reaches up higher to my waist and rests her hands on the edge of my shorts; through the material I can feel her hands trembling slightly.

I reach down and cup her chin forcing her to look up at me. I don't say anything or even breathe loudly, just let her look at me for a few seconds.

And then I say, "Yes."

Buffy leans forward and kisses me on my belly; then, sitting back on her legs she curls her fingers around the band of both my shorts and...my panties and ...she...she pulls them down. Slowly. I am very aware every second that my shorts are gently tugged down my legs until they ...and the rest...are resting on my ankles.

Buffy lets go and stands up. I step out of my shorts and reach for her. I pull her close, pushing myself against her. Pulling her and pushing myself against her hard so we're mashed against each other. I cup the back of her head and kiss her.

I kiss Buffy.

Then it ends.

"Now what?" I ask in a quietly, my voice just above a whisper. The idea of shouting, or even speaking loudly here is laughable.

Buffy steps around me toward the lake. She looks at me over her shoulder.

"Now you jump," Buffy says. Her white teeth flashing in the dark before she bunches her legs under her and leaps into the dark, her arms stretched over her head.

"Buffy!" I shriek blowing the stillness to a thousand pieces.

A quiet, distant splash is the only answer. I can barely make out the ground or where the edge of this...cliff...or outcropping is. Slowly I sink to my knees and feel my way forward with my hands. Within seconds I find the edge. My fumbling hands send a few tiny stones tumbling off the edge. They make quiet splashes a few seconds later. I lean over the drop slightly and stare down into the dark. Not that its any different from the dark where I am. Flat, black, endless. With no edges of details that I can make out of any kind.

"Buffy?" I whisper. No answer.

"Buffy, are you alright?" I call again, a little louder this time.

"Stop this, Buffy. You're scaring me," I hiss. "It's not funny okay? Where are you?"

Silence.

I don't move, I barely even breath straining my ears for a sound, any sound in this thick, heavy black that is all around me. I glance at the small pile my shorts and stuff makes in the dark. It's tempting...to put them back on...but I won't give into it. Won't run away.

I get down on all fours and lean out over the edge. "Buffy?" I call again into the dark. "Is that you?"

Seconds pass which feel like forever. My fists clench, crushing and tearing out of the soil innocent plants and various blades of grass.

"I love you, Willow," Buffy's voice drifts up from the black.

I exhale loudly, sweet relief flooding across muscles that I didn't know were tense.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" I hiss in the direction Buffy's voice came from.

"Come on, Willow," Buffy calls to me.

I scramble to me feet. "No way," I say fiercely, shaking my head even though I know she can't possibly see me. "I have no idea how far down it is, how deep the water is, I'm not even sure if there is water! And you want me to jump?"

"Yes," Buffy answers from somewhere down there.

"But...but what if get hurt, what if I hit the ground and break my neck?" I ask, even to my own ears my objections sound kinda weak. "I was taught many times never to dive into unknown waters. Maybe I was never a good swimmer but I remembered all my lessons!" I shuffle closer and closer to where I think the edge of this...precipice is, staring down into the dark, trying to make out any sign of where Buffy is.

"Do you trust me?" Buffy asks. Her voice is soft and quiet. Like she's not really down there, her voice comes from every direction at once.

"With my life," I answer automatically. "But, but I'm scared Buffy."

She's silent for a moment. My insecurities leap to the forefront of my mind, screaming how I've probably hurt her feelings, that she'll be angry with me, possibly even leave me because I was too much a coward. That I never deserved her anyway and they keep screaming this at me, and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming no matter how much I try and shut them up. And I'm alone in the dark and Buffy is somewhere out there, or down there but I can't see her and now she's not talking to me and I have no way of finding her, I probably am miles from the campus and I have no clothes and I'll never find my way out because there's just so much darkness and Buffy is probably swimming away wondering why she ever wasted her time with someone like-

"I'll catch you," And the screaming stops. Buffy could be anywhere in this dark but her voice sounds like she's standing right next to me.

I jump.

For a single, mind numbing instant while I'm in freefall an image flashes across my mind. Of my nude, vulnerable body hurtling down toward giant rocks with sharp, ebon edges glinting with the blood of others foolish enough to jump. Buffy's body is down there somewhere. She was lured to her death by whatever lives among the rocks, something like a banshee. And now it's lured me to my own death.

Yeah right; Buffy would kick that things ass.

Then I hit the water.

I thought being alone in the dark, on the edge of ...something or other was bad...but this is infinitely worse. On the cliff's edges I still had up and down, right and left, earth and sky. Here I have nothing but the black.

I open my eyes underwater and can make out nothing; I mean absolutely nothing. I can feel my arms and legs thrashing about in the water, feeling the bubbles sliding across my skin but I can't see them. I don't know where they are. I don't know where my own arms and legs are!

I panic.

Flailing about underwater I twist and turn, pushing through the water with desperate speed. Searching for the surface, I cut through the water but I have no idea which way I'm going. Am I ascending? Or descending? Will I break through the surface of the lake any second now to breath in cool, night air or will I collide with a sunken log or swim into a branch? Knock myself out and drown?

My lungs are burning, I have to breath but where is the surface? Where? Not like this, oh please Goddess no not like this. It would...it would be a stupid death. And very embarrassing. Being found, floating face down naked in some lake in the middle of nowhere. Or...or...what if they never found me? What if I just disappeared and no one could find me? They'd all assume I ran away or I'd be just one of those 'tragic' vanishing.

I don't wanna die!

Havta' breath!

Don't wanna die!

Havta' breath!

Don't wannadie!

Buffy where are you?

A strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me next to a warm body. I feel powerful legs kick at the water and then my head breaks the surface.

"Thank God!" I scream, a second later I'm sucking in great heaving gasps of air; fresh oxygen rushing around my body. As I inhale sobs try and work their way out. My arms are wrapped around Buffy's necks tightly, her own hugging me against her. Her legs kick lazily every few seconds keep the two of us safely afloat.

"Oh Goddess," I sob into Buffy's shoulder. "Oh Goddess, Oh Goddess."

Buffy holds me even closer, "I got you," she whispers in my ear. "I got you."

We don't say anything for a while. I just sob for a bit, Buffy holding me and treading water with her legs. Finally the sobs let me go and I just rest my forehead on her shoulder, occasionally sniffling.

"I got lost," I say after a time. "I got lost down there."

"Scary?" Buffy asks me.

I only nod.

"It was for me too," Buffy responds.

I puzzle that over in my head for a second. "You got lost the first time you went swimming here?"

Buffy shakes her head. "No," she replies. "I almost got lost the first time...the first...the first time I was free."

And everything clicks in place in my mind.

"You-you mean the first time you were...uh..." I pause, my mind racing to find a good work for what exactly she does or is that isn't really derogatory. "The first time you went wild?"

Buffy nods, though dark is all around us, hell we are in the dark, I can see and feel her eyes on me. "It was terrifying," she says. "All directions, no limitations. I nearly got lost."

"So you brought me here," I pick up. "So I could know what it was like." I reach up with one hand and gently stroke her hair, squeezing the excess water out.

"I promised I'd show you what it was like," Buffy said. "I keep my promises."

"You caught me." I stop stroking her hair and gently turn her to face so she's looking directly at me. All I can see in this dark, is her.

"Just like I promised," she says in a breathless whisper.

"Just like we promised," I whisper back to her then keep her from saying anything else by kissing her. I hold her face, sandwiched between my palms as I kiss her. She reciprocates just as aggressively, I can hear a quasi-growling in the back of her throat. She approves! Rapture.

Breaking the kiss for a second she gasps in my ear, "Take a breath!"

I do and, inhaling deeply, Buffy dives; but not before I start kissing her again.

She doesn't let me go, but that suits me fine, I don't let her go either. In fact I pick up right where she left off. Which I think is exactly what she wanted. With just her legs Buffy sends the two of us spiraling through the depths of the black lake; neither one of us paying much attention to where we're going. We're too wrapped up in the going and the doing of each other: The doing of kissage to be precise.

All around us the cool water rushes past, thick and solid, streamers of colder layers of water cross the warmer layers but all of them cooler than Buffy. Where Buffy holds me I am warm, not just warm but Hot. My entire front is so comfy, pressed up against like I am against her. Her arms are still wrapped around me. The palm of her hands caressing and scratching my spine as she still kicks us through the water. My eyes are closed, for the one part to protect them from the water flowing over us, and so I can concentrate more on what I'm doing. Tangling my fingers in Buffy's hair as it streams behind us, letting it be swept between my fingers by the current she generate and then swept free. My arms, coiled around her neck hold her head fast as I continue to kiss her. Her lips separate just for a split second and I deepen the kiss. Holding her head tight, pulling her against me as she pulls me against her tighter and tighter. I'm barely aware of the fact that, the tighter I hold, and deeper I kiss her, the faster we cut through the water.

Buffy arches her back slightly and we angle up, or what I think is up, toward the surface. We break, yep it was up, and Buffy stops swimming and, still holding me, still being kissed by me, sets her feet down on solid earth. The bottom. We must be in a shallow spot.

"Mmmm," I mmm, still intent on kissing like all get out. I run my fingers over the back of her neck, up along the scalp and down her cheeks. I push myself against her, mashing myself against her. I won't let her go, nope, never, uh-uh, not gonna do it. Never ever ever let my Buffy...hey...where'd she go?

I stare at my empty arms. Or try too. The water comes up to just above my belly button and I can barely make out my own pale skin in the starlight. Buffy has vanished. Behind me I can hear the gentle lapping of water and earth meeting, in front of me I hear Buffy's teasing laughter.

"Free now," Buffy calls out to me from somewhere in the dark. "You're free. You know the way, Willow."

Without hesitation I leap forward into the water. Submerged beneath the surface I do a steady breast stroke deeper and deeper. Black is around me but, where before it was confusing and disorienting, now all I see are possibilities. There are no rules here now; no limitations, no nothing. I can go up, down, left or right. As fast or as slow as I want. Nothing is holding me, no natural laws are forcing me to settle for something. I'm free. Free!

I angle downward, steep, and my hands find the bottom. The earth, ground floor, everybody off...or in real terms everybody on. Everybody has to stay there. On the earth, all the time. But not me! I'm free. Gravity is meaningless, I can choose now, not just right or left, or North or South. But up and down now! I can choose up if I want to. Or stick with down.

Down is just as viable an option as always.

I reach into the muddy bottom of the lake and grab a handful of it. It has no hold on me, this Earth. It has no power to pull me to it and make me step on it. I have power over it, I have it in my hand and it can do nothing to me in return.

I smile, deep, in the dark at the bottom of an unknown lake surrounded by black trees and black heavens and black water; with some black(or so I imagine) earth in my hand, I smile. I want to laugh, no, I want to scream my triumph. Later, perhaps, I'll have to go back, later I'll have to be limited again but right now I am FREE!

A strong hand slips into my empty one and tugs at me gently. I can barely make out a pale shape, swimming in front of me, but I know the eyes that I can't see but love are in the dark.

Short seconds later we break the surface of the lake. I exhale loudly. It's funny but I'm not out of breath in the slightest. I could have stayed down there forever. Buffy swims up behind me and embraces me. Her hands resting on my stomach. For the second time tonight I have a happy belly.

"D'ya unnerstand?" she mumbles, nuzzling at my ear.

"Yes," I reply.

"Good," she replies. Letting me go she starts swimming in a, what seems to me, random direction. Having nothing else to do I follow her.

Soon I feel the ground beneath my feet as the lake gets shallower. The dark seems a little pale in front of me, like there's a bar of something white resting on the shore.

"A beach?" I ask aloud.

"Yep," Buffy replies, the water is up to only her knees now as she wades out of the lake. "This place comes fully stocked."

She climbs out of the lake and lies down on the sand. "MMmmmmmm," she purrs lazily. "Come here, Willow. Sleep with me?"

"Sleep?" I echo. Still standing waist deep in the water. "But...but...what if...if..."

"No if's, Buffy mumbles. She's lying on her side, using her hands as a pillow. Even though she's a good ten feet away I can still see her eyes. "Sleep, we're safe."

"O...okay," I mumble, starting to wade toward the beach. "But I better not catch cold!"

I stretch out beside Buffy. The sand is surprisingly warm and comfy. Very fine and soft to the touch, like tiny, tiny pieces of satin or something.

Buffy's face is less than an inch from mine. She smiles at me. "Free is good?" she asks.

"Free is terrifying," I reply. "But worth it."

I raise my arms over my head and stretch. "Aaah," I yawn. "I'm sleepy."

Buffy reaches around and pulls me against her, her breasts push against mine. "Then sleep," I hear her smile, "If you can."

END-Nocturnal Interludes


End file.
